


NSFW oneshots

by logdate_unknown



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Alternate Universe - Corporate, Assisted Masturbation, Baking, Domesticity, Embarrassment, Empath, Feeding Kink, First Time, Force-Feeding, Gen, Helplessness, Hypnotism, Light Angst, Loneliness, M/M, Masturbation, Mating, Mildly Dubious Consent, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, No I don't take constructive criticism, Null - Freeform, Oviposition, Robots, Shame, True Love, Vibrators, dominant zim, submissive zim, zim figures out what masturbation is, zim has a puss in most of these stories, zim is also a bottom, zim is lonely
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 20:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21167561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/logdate_unknown/pseuds/logdate_unknown
Summary: 18+ ONLY. Various NSFW oneshots, mostly just involving Zim. Will update tags as I post more.Chapter summaries:1. Zim is alone in the base when he starts to feel a certain, desperate longing. He doesn't know what to do, until he does it.2. A friendly scientist examining Zim explains a very important act to him in a very hands-on way.3. An alien visiting from another world misinterprets Zim's intentions.4. Skoodge has been in a relationship with Zim for a while before he finally makes a very special request.5. Zim spoils his humanoid lover over breakfast.6. Zim builds a... somewhat overzealous robot.7. A hypnotist finds Zim, and decides that he is hungry.8. Zim is a C.E.O. at an important company. A C.E.O. with many secrets.9. What is it like? Zim hasn't the slightest idea... until he runs in with an empath.10. It's difficult to work when there's someone so bewitching to think about.(Please do not send any more requests.)Side note- if you think it's okay to ship a child with an adult character, aged up or not, do not interact with this story. I should have said this before, but none of you are welcome. Please respect my boundaries.





	1. The Generator

**Author's Note:**

> HEyyy- yaaaaa....  
I can't believe I'm writing smut. For Invader Zim. A show about hypnotic zits and eating organs. What a time to be alive.  
ANyway, I've had a few ideas here and there, and they're mostly just for Zim.  
The first story is about how Zim masturbates and orgasms for the first time. (As an adult!!)  
Hope you enjoy!

Zim squirmed uncomfortably in the chair at the console, the machinations of his base whirring hard behind him, as if it was breathing heavily. He was trying very hard to read the data laid out on the screen for him, but he found himself reading the same sentences over and over as he lost focus.

It had been this way for a few days, now. Irkens didn’t need to sleep every night like humans, so it wasn’t exactly something he could just sleep off. But Zim had been feeling…  
What word could he use to describe it? It was a few things, warring inside his little body and making him sweat. Some kind of… need. 

It was an emptiness. A yearning frustration, pent up inside his abdomen, between his hips, and making his skin crawl. He would stare off into space, daydreaming of tall hands on him, holding him and holding him down. Touching him. It was perplexing, and rather concerning. Zim had never felt this way, nor had he ever summoned such troubling images.   
Many times, the daydreams were abstract, and he didn’t picture hands touching him, but rather a force which filled him up, easing the heat that rose up his body in feverish shivers. Holding onto him and never letting him go. Maybe stroking his antennae. Gently but firmly applying pressure to the longing until it ebbed away. 

He had a hunch he knew what it was. And if it was what he feared, he refused to deal with it outright. It was… improper. Irkens did not need to mate any longer, and it had been that way for several thousand years. Why should he, the most amazing invader the Irken armada had to offer, feel such a longing?

Zim looked down and saw that he had been pressing his knees together. His gloved hands were shaking. 

Enough was enough. He needed a break.

While he still refused to truly acknowledge this strange affliction, he still needed a moment. A breather. Now would be a good time to take GIR for a walk, (he insisted upon being walked like a normal dog) but he was afraid to go out in public like this. The thought of having his wig and contacts on, when he felt as if his body hated him for being lonely, physically repulsed him. 

And he was lonely. It had been hard to admit that to himself. The lack of other Irkens, though others in his species had never really liked him, and that he was virtually alone on this planet with his only company a defective robot… he longed for Irk again. For normality. And if not that, to succeed in something. 

Zim walked uncomfortably throughout the lab, his entire body tense to the point of discomfort. His hands were clenched, the points sinking a little into the flesh of his hand through the gloves. 

What was it! What would be done? What could he do to make it go away? As the heat swirled inside him, making him dizzy and faint, he was almost ready to cry. He had never experienced such discomfort. He would prefer being wounded to this. This… desire that made him even less easy to be around. 

Zim looked down as he noticed with alarm that, he felt damp. As he lifted his dress to look at himself, he saw that the fabric of his leggings was damp from his crotch to his inner thighs. 

Leaking? Him? Why? His hunch had to be correct. Zim groaned in terror. Only defectives felt this longing! He did not need to…

Zim plopped down on the floor in the middle of the lab and shimmied the soaked fabric down his hips, then pushing it to his knees. 

Indeed, he was leaking. Zim, shaken, looked down cautiously to see the folds between his legs were glistening. They were normally subdued, calm, resting where they did, but now they had swelled up, parting where they lead to the inside. He could feel the wetness pool from the entrance of his body, and shuddered. 

Zim sat for a long few moments, listening to his own breathing in the silence, feeling himself throb in the cool air of the lab. He was clutching onto the hem of his dress, sitting up with his legs out, his thoughts slow and warm and aching. What could he do? He couldn’t possibly…

Without thinking, Zim lowered his fingers to his vulva, laying the pads of them over the soft, sweet leaflets of his sex, and over the little bright pink thumb of flesh above his entrance that was throbbing consistently. And without thinking, he stroked over it with his index finger, moaning shamefully, like a sigh let out after a moment or two of holding it in. 

Then, in a snap, he yanked his fingers away. Disgusted, he glared at his fingers, which were now glistening wet. 

He stood up, and jolted as he felt the wetness drip further down the inside of his thighs. Turning his head from side to side, to be sure that his little robot was nowhere near, he tugged up his pants, resuming his tense walk all the way until he could change his clothes.

The generator at the center of the base was not as large as one would expect for the complexity of the alien base, but it sure did its job pretty well. Zim could not say for sure what it really ran on, and at this point he was afraid to ask. But, in checking up with it now and again, it never seemed to give him any problems. 

Zim had been flitting from different, not altogether necessary, activities and tasks to distract himself from the terrible, terrible aching he still suffered. In another attempt to ignore this strange heat, he had worn another pair of leggings on top of his first pair, so that they, hopefully, would not soak through. 

All he had to do was suffer through one more earth day. Then he could sleep, and hopefully wake up and find the longing gone. 

The invader approached the generator, his jaw set in a terse frown. He circled the tall chrome metal box, as it came up about a foot above his height, and stepped over the thick tubes and wiring carefully, coming to a stop at the viewscreen which displayed the semantics of the all-important device, tapping through each diagnostic as he had done many times. 

He actually really enjoyed this task, especially during earth’s winters, when the base grew cold. Irkens were not good with cold, and late nights, when GIR was asleep, he would often come to the furthest reaches of his base where the cold couldn’t touch him. The generator was very warm, and gave off constant, thrumming vibrations that made Zim feel a little less alone. GIR kept him company well enough, but the little SIR was difficult to manage, and Zim’s stress levels came up high when GIR was close to something important, or breakable, or really anything at all that had high stakes. The base happened to be full of these things, and it was a constant worry that GIR would come and damage something. He tried to keep things up high where GIR wouldn’t dare to look. 

Here, GIR was not allowed. Zim had instructed the computer to keep him barred from this area of the base. 

The diagnostic would run itself. An Irken equivalent of a spinning wheel appeared on the screen, and Zim stopped tapping, leaning his side against the generator. 

It was so, so warm. For once it was a warmth that was pleasant. Not an icky, prickling warmth that overwhelmed him and wouldn’t go away. And the constant vibration, once you got used to it, was soothing. Zim could go to sleep right there. In fact, as soon as the diagnostic was done, that’s what he would do. 

As he was leaning there, almost dozing, he felt the pen he’d been using to tap the screen slip out of his hands and fall. Frowning, he opened his eyes, not feeling like moving. But he bent to pick it up, turning and settling his backside against the machine.

And jolted back up. He left the pen on the floor, startling upright, wide awake now. 

What was that? That sensation... when he’d rested against the corner of the generator, the vibrations…

Oh. Oh no. Zim hissed in anger. This stupid, stupid longing! He hated it with all his might!

But of course. It had felt… pleasant. 

All the fight drained out of him at once. He relaxed, and as if guided by an unseen force, leaned forward and aimed the corner of the generator against his center. All at once, the sensations flooded through him, and he could feel the swollen lips underneath the failsafe layers of leggings twitch and contract, the little blub of flesh quivering as it pressed against the corner. Zim sighed, and moaned as he adjusted himself so that the corner pressed harder into him. 

A wave of relief, a building pressure that angled up into his body through his center came up and crashed over him. He rested his hands on his knees, breathing hard in disbelief as he was shaken by the hot metal of the generator.

The corner pressed down hard onto his clitoris, and he kept readjusting himself, falling back and aiming his backside up higher until his pubic mound was squarely on top of it.   
He stared ahead breathlessly, his muscles refusing to let him move any further unless he could some how get closer, to increase the pleasure he was feeling. The invader found himself crying out helplessly, clutching the fabric on his knees. 

Zim had a thought, which he immediately pushed away, but then accepted, removing himself briefly so that he could pull both layers of leggings down around his ankles. He re-met with the generator, and gasped as his bare lips, silky with wetness like the rest of his mound and thighs, closed around the hot metal that shot wave after wave of pleasure into his core. 

The little bulb of flesh met with the corner, pressed down, and the vibrations were intense where they met with it, and the sensations went up a stepladder until-

Zim yelped helplessly as his orgasm pierced every individual sense. He was aloft, heart soaring, and pressed himself hard against the generator as his muscles tenses and his sex pulsed, bringing him almost to a full halt, weak in the knees. A fuzzy, warm feeling of satisfaction came as the intense spasms ebbed, and Zim found himself, his sex still wet, in a shameful position against the most important part of the base. 

At once, Zim felt hot shame and regret wash over him. He looked down at the fabric pooled around his ankles and yanked it back up over his behind. 

As soon as he was sure the diagnostics were finished, he disinfected the shiny slick of the generator well, burning hot with shame as he did. 

But he did not yearn anymore, at least for now.

Zim crawled up to the layer of the base just above the generator chamber, and found the room that, while rarely used, should have been just as important to Zim as any other. 

Zim’s sleeping chamber was the size of a closet, which meant there was just enough room to be comfortable. The only thing inside was a soft, low palate, which was piled with a dense layer of blankets. If he wanted to, he could close the door and lock himself inside, where it was dark and warm and safe, cuddled in the heat and the plush of the blankets. But, he knew from experience GIR could get anxious if he couldn’t find his master, so Zim left the door open. 

He was safe, he reasoned. No one would come for him here. Except for GIR, but that was alright. Just as long as he didn’t break anything.   
Zim stood his boots up at one end of the closet, and tugged off his gloves and dress, leaving on only one pair of leggings. He would have replaced his uniform with pajamas, but at the moment he was too tired and feeling too strange. He would have to look into what he had felt sometime later, if he could possibly gain any information.   
For now, he was tired. Zim curled up in the layers, pulling them closely around him, and still experiencing the sweet after effects of his orgasm, lulled to sleep in no time at all.


	2. Any time you want

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A kind scientist studying Zim helps the stressed alien get off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are again! It's another masturbation related one. I just think if Zim masturbated more, or if he knew how, he'd be a lot more calm. Enjoy!  
Edit: the formatting for this one is a little squished, sorry about that. I tried to fix it twice but ao3 won't let me ;A;

Zim couldn’t deny he felt some sort of affection toward the lady scientist. He looked forward to seeing her every day, as they had started to send her as a substitute from some of the other scientists who he had spurned and fought off. While he was still surly and cold to most of them, tossing insults, threatening them- he was somewhat kind to Ursula. He tolerated her.  
They had made it clear to Zim he was not a prisoner in the labs, but if he was going to be an earth ally, they needed to study him closer. Zim wouldn’t say it out loud to anyone, but he hoped dearly that these scientists would help him to understand himself a little better. There were so many things that Irkens were banned from knowing, and as Zim got older he began to understand the severity of their brainwashing. They were not allowed to access to so much of their own biology. PAK semantics were easy to acquire, but when it came to their own bodies, there was so much Zim did not know, and was forbidden from knowing.  
Today Ursula came, like normal, while Zim waited for her in the chair beside the examination table. While he still trusted her the most, though, he fidgeted nervously, worried sick every time until she could come and reassure him that she was not about to cut him open, nor was anyone else in this lab. Their intentions were strictly humane, and Ursula had been wonderful working with Zim to help him learn what his people considered unknowable.  
Today, he sat more comfortably in his uniform, in the chair to the side of the examination table in the private room which needed a key code to enter. Normally they had him wear a little hospital gown, which he hated, and had spoken up about several times. Ursula had finally told him, if he really didn’t want to wear it that much, then he didn’t have to.  
As Ursula entered, her dark hair pulled back to show a pair of glittering gold earrings, Zim smiled tensely, and dropped it as soon as the scientist sat. Ursula smiled back, only her smile lasted longer and was warmer and much more genuine. It made Zim feel a little better about himself.  
“How are you today, Zim?”  
“Fair,” said Zim. “And you?” He had learned it was polite to ask about the people you liked.  
“Oh, I’m fine, Zim,” she said, her soft, sweet voice calming him. Zim’s antennae fell back, as his heart began to accept whatever questions she might ask. Last week they had made an X-Ray of his internals, and Zim didn’t think he’d ever been more scared in his life. It embarrassed him that he’d needed a break to calm down, because he’d started to hyperventilate, his eyes searching the room in terror at all the doctors peering at his insides.  
Ursula had switched off the x ray and guided him to sit down, and she’d massaged his little shoulders with her delicate hands until he calmed down. Each week Zim grew to trust her more. He could say to himself that she was his favorite human, though never out loud. His pride wouldn’t let him.  
Ursula flipped through the paper on her clipboard, then sighed a little through her nose. Zim folded his claws in his lap and tried not to look too impatient and eager for the session to end.  
“So, today is optional. I could have let you know that in advance, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to ask you these questions yet. You can answer as many questions if you like. If you don’t know something, or don’t want to answer, just say ‘pass.’ Okay?”  
“Yes, Ursula. Zim is ready.”  
She took in an audible breath before continuing. “So, are you sexually active?”  
Zim’s antenna flipped back in alarm. “My- I- my people don’t-“  
“No, no, it’s okay Zim.” She looked down. “Nevermind. I knew this was a bad idea.”  
“Wait! No, I can answer. I… “ he set his claws in his lap again, then anxiously tugged on the hem of his dress. “It’s difficult to explain.”  
Ursula looked to him with worried sympathy. “Take your time.”  
After a while, Zim spoke again, every sentence coming out hesitant and slow. “Our people… we don’t- we don’t condone traditional mating. You recall how Zim said we were born artificially?”  
Urusla nodded seriously, taking in everything with a frown. She did remember.  
“I am not sexually active,” he confirmed, and it was hard to tell with his pupilless eyes, but it seems like he’s looking away, not meeting her eyes.  
She went through her list of questions, and was met with a wall of 'pass's from Zim. She could tell he was starting to get fidgety, so around the 6th or seventh 'pass,' she unclicked her pen. “Okay,” she said gently. “Is it alright if I perform an examination on your genitals?”  
“My what now?”  
“Your sex organs. Do you… do you have any?”  
Understanding dawned on Zim. “Oh, eh… I mean, okay.”  
“I could get one of the male doctors to come and do it,” she offered.  
“Not necessary,” he said, with the wave of a hand.  
Ursula was surprised he consented to it so easily. She had expected a lot of resistance, maybe even anger. She guessed it was the act of sex, and not the fact they seemingly still had the capability to, that was an upsetting topic. She wondered if she had crossed some cultural line by asking him if he had.  
Zim moved to the examination table, taking out the metal spider legs from his PAK to assist him upwards. Ursula never got used to seeing those things.  
When prompted, he sat down, and looked away from her as he pulled up the hem of his dress and pushed the fabric of his leggings to his knees.  
Ursula had just started pulling on her gloves when she did a double take. Zim’s revealed crotch was smooth, hairless, with a subtle groove in the middle. The slit was short and small, like him. Was Zim… female? It took a moment for her to get over her surprise so that she could continue.  
“Okay, Zim. I’m going to look at your… parts, now. So, it’s definitely okay that I touch you?”  
Zim nodded mutely. Ursula worried. He always spoke up to respond. Then he touched his fingers together, taking in a breath to speak. Ursula waited.  
“Ursula-human, could I entrust you with something that you must never tell anyone else?”  
Taken aback again, trying not to stare at Zim’s crotch, she nodded. “Of course, Zim. What is it?”  
Zim took another long pause, bringing his knees together so that he obscured himself, but not pulling up his pants. “Sometimes… sometimes I, Zim… feels odd. Down there, where you’re examining. A… often, actually.” He swallowed. “I know what it means, what it must mean that I want, and I know I’m not supposed to. It’s strictly forbidden by my people. But I can’t stop thinking about it. I don’t know how to make the feeling go away.”  
It was clear it took a lot of effort and courage for Zim to admit this to her. Her heart hurt a little, so happy that he trusted her so much, but thinking of Zim, anxious and scared for thoughts that should never be illegal, made her sad.  
“It’s okay to think about those things,” she said, in her most soothing voice, the one she used when he had panicked, before. “At least for us humans, it’s perfectly natural. I’m sure if you’re thinking about it, it’s natural for you too. Even if it’s forbidden.”  
Zim still didn’t look at her. He was blushing, a little, his cheeks turning an almost imperceptible darker shade of green.  
“It’s not illegal on earth. You’re welcome to keep thinking about those things. No one’s stopping you.”  
He nodded again, if only to give her a response.  
She proceeded with the examination with Zim’s consent, and he rested his weight on his arms as she gently parted his legs and touched the slit with her gloved hands, pulling the lips apart with careful tenderness. Zim’s insides were bright, bright pink, the vivid color almost shocking her eyes. His vulva hidden beneath the pubic mound was perfectly symmetrical, lined on either side with several delicate folds, almost like a multiplied labium. When she probed further, pulling him apart to see his entrance, she saw it was lined with gingerly moving threads of tissue, thousands of them, all moving independently, like sentient taste buds. His clitoris came out like a little hook as the lips were parted, about an inch long, and had a few segments, a lot like his tongue. Ursula was mesmerized.  
Most of all, it was cute. Really cute. Everything was suitably dainty and candy-colored. Ursula still wondered if he was considered female. Or if he had been born female, and was male now. Or if all Irkens had parts like this.  
“So, you’re male, right? Is this what male parts look like for your species?”  
Zim didn’t seem to know how to answer. “All Zim knows is what my own look like,” he said quietly. “I’ve never seen other Irken… what was it you called it, genitals?”  
“Okay. So, I don’t suppose you know how your reproductive systems work? Or if you can still reproduce naturally?”  
“No. All I know is that this,” he gestured vaguely, “is, apparently, my genitals.”  
There was a little sass to that which made Ursula giggle. “Alright, then. We’ll have to do some studies to find out more about that.”  
Then she had a thought. What if…  
“Hey Zim, do you know what masturbation is?”  
“I am not familiar with that term, no.”  
Ursula breathed in. “Okay, so masturbation is where you touch yourself to bring yourself to orgasm.” Zim stared at her blankly. “You… know what an orgasm is, right?”  
“Of course I know, human,” he bit out rudely. But he obviously didn’t. All of this not knowing must have been making him feel a little insecure. He started pulling up his pants, in a huff.  
“Wait. Zim, I know you don’t know what an orgasm is. It’s okay to admit that to me. I won’t judge you.”  
Zim stared at Ursula, his eyes wide. He wasn’t used to being put in his place and actually acknowledging it. Ursula put on her gentle voice again.  
“An orgasm is where you experience a climax of sexual stimulation. You know how you told me you had those feelings? That you wanted to be touched? If you masturbate, you can give yourself an orgasm, and you’ll feel better. I mean, I’m assuming your people can have orgasms, since you say you want to be touched.” She gestured towards herself. “Your genitals are a lot like mine. I masturbate sometimes, when I feel that way. I touch myself and make myself feel good, and I don’t have to think those thoughts anymore, for a while. It’s also a really good way to relieve stress. You’re stressed a lot, aren’t you, Zim?”  
Zim’s face contorted into a grimace. Cleary, he didn’t like being read like that. But his face softened after a moment, closing his lips to hide his teeth, looking shy and uncertain again, and probably looking away from her.  
“I want to show you how to masturbate, is what I’m getting at.” She smiled. “I think it’s a really good idea, and it might help you understand yourself better. But, of course, you can say no. We’ll walk right out of here and I’ll never ask you questions about this again. Okay?”  
Zim lifted his head. The tips of his fingers were nervously touching. Her heart hoped. She really wanted this for him. Who knew how much of his anger was actually just sexual frustration? In her head, she crossed her fingers.  
“It’s… very hard for Zim to tell you these things. I’m… I’m exceedingly stressed. All the time. You’re right, Ursula. I’m almost desperate for a way to stop feeling…” he touched his chest. “This way. Any help you can give me, I’ll accept.”  
She sighed quietly. “Okay,” she said, and approached the examination table again, sitting beside it. “So, there’s a few ways we can do this. I could show you how to do it, and you could follow my instructions. I could show you how to do it, on myself by touching myself, and you could copy me. Or,” she added, quickly, “I could touch you.”  
Zim gave this some thought. Already nervous as he was, the first two options seemed so strange. He had never touched himself. He didn’t know where to begin to follow any instructions on how to touch himself, because he didn’t know what anything on his ‘genitals’ were called. And seeing Ursula, perform the act on herself… he wasn’t sure how ready he was to see a human… in that state.  
“You can touch Zim,” he said with confidence. Zim trusted Ursula with all his heart.  
“Okay,” she said, for the hundredth time that evening, and pulled on a new pair of gloves. “Let’s see what that Irken… uh, well I don’t know what I could call it.”  
She moved behind Zim, sitting down, and pulling him back so that his back rested on her shoulder, the bottom of his PAK nestled into the space beside her neck. “Comfortable?”  
“Yes,” he said quietly.  
From there, she encouraged him to pull his leggings all the way down so he could spread his legs for easier access. Even when she was behind him, she could sense the blush.  
All of this was going on the hope that Irkens experienced pleasure in similar ways that humans did. If she was wrong, who knew what would happen?  
Before she could regret anything, she moved her gloved fingers down to Zim’s pussy and stroked the outside of his pubic mound, just to get him used to her touching him down there.  
“Relax,” she breathed, and felt some of the tension melt away from Zim’s body. Then, she parted the lips with her fingers, moving down briefly to feel the cilia rub against her hand from the barest entrance of his (or what she assumed was his) vagina. As she began to move her fingers against him in slow circles, hoping he could self-lubricate like humans did, she heard his breath hitch. To further ready himself, he braced himself against her arm, holding out his hand to keep himself from slipping down. “There. How’s that?”  
Zim hesitated. “It’s… not terrible,” he said softly.  
Ursula increased the pressure, speeding up a little, but maintaining a gentle rhythm. She started to widen her circles, moving upward to touch his clitoris, then stopping there to rub that. It was long enough that she could take it between her thumb and forefinger and stroke it from base to tip. Zim, watching her hand closely, sighed.  
“Doesn’t that feel good?” She asked, really hoping, cooing to him. She wanted more than anything in the world for him to feel less stressed. And to understand his sexual urges. “On my human body, we call that the clitoris. Mine’s a little different than yours, but it seems like yours serves the same purpose.” Ursula moved her fingers down, stroking down the several folds, stimulating each one as Zim’s breath picked up its pace.  
Ursula couldn’t deny she was feeling a little wet, herself. All this made her a little jealous. She was giving Zim attention that she didn’t even give herself.  
He began to release little moans, and Ursula could feel him getting wetter under her gloves. The sounds he was making were so cute, and she couldn’t help but give him a little kiss on his cheek, smiling. “I’m so glad you’re enjoying it,” she cooed, and Zim just moaned. In the corner of her eye, she could see him blushing. He’d opened his legs even further, lost in the bliss.  
Seeing as he was comfortable, she moved her fingers down, slipping them past the lips and into his pussy, carefully and slowly, so she’s not hurting him. The cilia gripped her fingers, stroking them, and it’s even a little unsettling. But Zim loved it, and he turned, burying his face into her neck, where she could feel his hot, hard breaths. He gripped her free arm harder, and she watched down his belly as he moved his own free hand to stroke his wriggling clit as she fingered him.  
“That’s it!” she said, surprised at him. “There you go, Zim. You’re doing so well.”  
Zim had his eyes shut tight, rubbing himself like he had seen her do, and she took the initiative to sink her fingers further into the tight, squirming pool, pulling them out and back in with the rhythm of Zim’s own hand, which he moved desperately, his fingers writhing over the clit with fervor.  
Then he came. Hard. Ursula knew it was happening because his pussy wrenched her fingers, and she watched the clit go still in his fingers before his hips trembled, and his legs bent inward a little, twitching and shuddering uncontrollably before falling open again, and he let out a broken cry of bliss. His pussy undulated, and his clit- surprisingly- ejaculated, releasing hot pink liquid all over the examination table in jerks.  
When he came back down, his body fell almost limp, sighing deeply. His fingers released their grip, and she realized how hard he’d been holding her arm. It might leave a bruise later. But she wasn’t upset at all, about that.  
“Well done, Zim! Wasn’t that nice?” She rubbed his shoulder, so happy to have done this for him. “And you wanna know what the best part is? You can make yourself feel that way, whenever you want to.”  
When she came around to the front of him, Zim had stars in his eyes. In the weeks she had known the loud, upstart little alien, she had never seen him so relaxed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand there we go! This one was really fun to write. I loved the idea of someone else helping Zim get off, and pussy Zim is my favorite so of course it had to be a lady who understood just what he needed to feel good. Hope you enjoyed!! Comments make my day! Thanks for reading!


	3. Friends with benefits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim has become acquainted with another alien of an entirely different species, who is more than happy to give Zim exactly what he thinks he needs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every time I write a new one of these, I swear Jhonen wakes up in a cold sweat or gets one of those shivers as if someone walked over his grave or something. I am sincerely sorry, my dude.  
(Also! This one starts off sounding bad, but I promise it gets better.)

Zim wasn’t sure how they’d gotten here, but the Horaxian pilot was most certainly too big for Zim. 

And yet the beast was gripping Zim’s antennae, forcing his head forward so that his lips touched the head of the raging blue cock he found himself faced with. His mouth touched the head, sneering up at the bat-like creature, who grinned back. 

They were in Grimin’s base, his turf, and Zim was nervous and unsure. But he needed to know what it felt like. He'd needed it for over a century. Needed to feel someone… make love to him.

He parted his lips, and the other alien took full advantage, barging past Zim’s lips and teeth, groaning triumphantly. 

“Let’s see you use that tongue,” teased the pilot, his grip firm on Zim’s antennae, crushing them together in his huge hand. All his senses sparked, his hearing floating, like he was underwater. 

Zim, quivering down his sides, licked the underside of the cock thrusting inside his mouth, slithering his tongue around it inside his mouth, making the pilot open his own mouth and moan. His throat began to open up, and as the head hit the back, he yelped as he pulled back, the Horaxian loosing his grip on the antenna too late. The roots were yanked painfully, making Zim gasp. 

“Whoops,” said the pilot, nonchalantly, as Zim coughed, then planted a firm boot on Zim’s chest, making him land hard onto the bed behind him.

They were in Grimin’s ship, one just large enough to have a warm little hideaway bedroom, and the sheets were warm and soft. The ones Zim was now being pushed down onto, still coughing here and there, trying to catch his breath.

Grimin, opening his wings then pulling them back against his body in a display of his strength, dove down and yanked Zim’s leggings down hard. He edged them down to Zim’s ankles, then forced his knees apart, leering at the Irken’s quivering pussy lips, twitching as they released more wetness, the candy pink discharge tempting and sweet.

“Mmm, I’m going to fuck you so hard you break,” rumbled the bat, throwing his shadow over Zim’s littleness, whose eyes went glassy with fear. Grimin did not notice. As far as he knew, Zim was ready.

With his long, sharp claws stemming from the webs of his wings, Grimin tore the fabric of the leggings away, throwing the shreds behind him to the floor of the ship, and took himself in hand, using the other to press Zim’s left leg down against his chest. He rutted his length against Zim’s soaking lips, and the invader whimpered, his eyes as wide as they could be. The Horaxian pilot’s shaft was as long as his abdomen, and while part of him shivered in excitement, all other parts wanted to scream, to fight back and push away.

Grimin aimed himself down, touching the entrance, then let go of himself as he threw himself inside with one rapid thrust. 

Zim cried out, a mix between a yelp and a shriek, and the black eyes of the one inside him glittered, biting down onto his lip with his fangs. “Oh, fuck… so tight, you little Irken.”  
Using the weight of his upper body, Grimin leaned forward, his hands on both the Irken’s skinny legs, pressing them both back so they were folded against his chest, balancing himself as he began a relentless, punishing rhythm, pushing as far back into Zim’s body as he could, then passing that point. 

Zim squealed again, his expression bunching up, eyes closed tightly. The bat-man growled and snarled, bearing his long fangs as he stabbed his hips forward again and again, bruising the inside of Zim with the sheer force. The alien was so hot and wet and pulsing around him, intoxicating, and the little whimpers of what he thought was pleasure were doing everything they could to make him come undone. 

“Ungh… you filthy little slut… I’m going to take you again, and again, and again… until you’re mine. I’m gonna fill you up every chance I get. When I’m done with you, you’ll be my depraved little slave… all mine.”

Then Grimin opened his eyes. Zim had stopped making sounds, but his mouth was still open, his face contorted with pain, and tears slid down his temples and onto the blankets.  
There was clearly no pleasure in it. 

“O-oh, Zim,” Grimin stuttered, and stopped as soon as he could ultimately stop himself from keeping his rhythm. His heart falling, the pilot pulled out of Zim gently, releasing the bruising grip on Zim’s knees. “I-I thought you liked this. Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Now that Grimin had stopped, Zim took in half an inhale and wheezed out a sob. Grimin frantically tried to stow his still-hard cock away into his pants, but didn’t do a very good job.

Zim couldn’t reply. He’d begun crying in earnest, closing his legs and concealing his helplessly twitching sex, rolling onto one side and burying his face in his gloved hands.  
“I… I thought you wanted me to be rough,” said the other alien, at a loss. “Oh my god. Was I hurting you? You’re such a tough one, I really thought that-“

Grimin helped Zim cover himself up by drawing the blankets over him, which calmed him significantly, enough that he could uncover his glassy eyes and find his breath.  
“I... Zim doesn’t want to be your slave. Zim is not… a slut.”

“Oh, gosh, Zim,” replied Grimin, throwing his wing around his shoulders. “I feel like a fool. I really thought you wanted it hard and rough, when you begged me to take you. Why didn’t you stop me?”

Zim sat up a little more, shamefully wiping away a tear. “Wanted to… feel good,” he answered, unsure.

Grimin sighed. Irkens were so sexually repressed. He should have realized that the moment Zim threw himself against Grimin, desperately rubbing himself against his knee and eyeing him with stars in those huge, pink eyes. 

“This isn’t what you need,” he realized aloud. “You need someone to be gentle with you. I can do that.”

He had grown to like Zim, however rude and sassy he was, and they’d become good friends during Grimin’s stay on Urth. The last thing he wanted was to make the chaotic little Irken cry. He graced his long, clawed fingers over Zim’s cheeks, smoothing away the tears.

“Would you like to try again? I won’t even penetrate you, if you’re not comfortable with that. Or, I could leave you be, and we don’t ever have to speak of this again.”

Zim gave this a lot of thought. It was clear on his expressive face, and it was very hard not to read everything he was clearly thinking. At last, he looked up at Grimin, and placed his own little hand on Grimin’s fuzzy cheek.

“Zim would like to try again,” he said, determined, and Grimin grinned wide. 

“Excellent. Any requests?”

Zim looked down. “Touch my antennae.”

Grimin brought around the hand he’d been holding around Zim’s shoulders, and joined with the other, taking them both to the top of Zim’s head and bringing them down over the antennae both at once in a long, slow stroke down the back of his head.

The tension in Zim’s body melted away, as Grimin moved down and around, massaging the pads of his fingers into other areas on Zim’s head as well, moving down under his jaw, then back up under his cheekbones, then to his temples, being sure to apply just the right amount of pressure.

In an abrupt toss, Zim flung the blankets aside from his legs, and opened them up, his pussy still wet and glistening, tempting the Horaxian, who began to grow hard again.  
“Don’t stop,” demanded Zim in a moan, but also pulled Grimin’s pants down, freeing the member once more, and edging his hips close, making every inch of Grimin flare up with heat. “S-slower this time, sex-beast,” growled Zim, and Grimin lowered one hand, using the other to maintain the pace he’d set stroking Zim’s antennae, and lifted the Irken tenderly under his backside so he could aim himself slowly past the hot, vivid pink lips, and inside.

Zim shivered, shutting his eyes, and let out a squeaky moan. He braced himself against the Horaxian’s shoulders, digging in his claws a little. “Mmmnh… yes… t-touch me,” he sighed. “Zim demands it.”

This time, Grimin followed the cues from Zim’s body, feeling the Irken open up inch by inch, and sliding slowly and carefully up and down, moving Zim and himself at the same time. It was a good thing he was good at multi-tasking, as he also continued to stroke the wiry antennae. It was the least he could do for hurting Zim without realizing it, earlier.

Zim’s sounds, this time, were of pure, undone pleasure, helplessly whining as Grimin’s cock edged deeper past the softness of his sex until he was seated firmly on top of the carefully pulsing length, undone with the ease that he felt from the hands on his head. Grimin watched Zim’s long clit writhe and twitch, smirking, and biting his lip as he shifted, hoping the angle would bring Zim even more pleasure. 

“How’s this?” He asked, stroking his thumb along the delicate bone of Zim’s hip. 

“I-it is pleasurable,” answered Zim, then punctuated the statement with a soft sigh, shifting himself closer. “You may… go faster.”

“Are you sure?”

“Do as I say, sex-beast,” commanded Zim, and squealed again as Grimin pumped himself quicker into him. Zim responded by leaning himself into the Horaxian’s soft, furry shoulder, wrapping his arms endearingly around him as he braced himself for the ride.

Grimin made quick work of himself that way, and before he knew it, was pumping his cum in hard spasms deep inside Zim, who made one last long cry before pulsing around him, accepting the load with a hard squeeze from both his claws, his entire body tensing until he released the lock on his muscles. As Zim relaxed, he squirmed and shifted over the cock, coming down from the high and feeling the pressure in his abdomen from the sheer amount of cum that had been released inside him. 

Still inside him, Grimin lowered the Irken down onto the blankets, and they unwrapped their arms from around each other before he pulled out. Zim’s hole leaked deliciously, the barely-there blue color mixing with the vivid pink of Zim’s wetness, opening up again and contracting to push out the load. Zim watched this with an almost unreadable expression, one hand on his belly.

Grimin rubbed the back of his head. “Ah, jeez. I guess I shouldn’t have come inside, right? Sorry about that.”

“Zim is not,” he replied matter-of-factly. “I rather enjoyed the sensation. I should… like to feel it again, given the chance.”

Grimin smiled wide once more, and leaned forward to rest a kiss on Zim’s inner thigh before he began to clean him up with his tongue in long, gentle strokes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we have it! I liked the idea of Zim making friends with someone who knows a lot more about sex than he does. If you spend a long enough time with Zim, it's easy to tell how sexually frustrated he is. Just a well meaning alien and some misunderstanding before he's able to give that touch-starved little man what he needs.


	4. Entirely New

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim has never mated with anyone. Skoodge has, though, and finds himself longing for that same pleasure with his new love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gentle top Skoodge, okay?  
That is all.   
Enjoy!

He was so warm, like this. Skoodge was always like that. A constant source of heat that Zim could just disappear into. Right beside him, just crossing the line where their bodies lay independent from each other. 

‘Isn’t this a little… sparse, Zim?’ He’d asked him, the day before. ‘It’s just a pile of blankets. In a closet. Is this really where you sleep?’

It had never occurred to Zim that his place to sleep was a little more uncomfortable than how sentient beings typically liked their beds. He didn’t sleep often enough (though Skoodge pointed out he should) to really have a designated place to sleep that he couldn’t move easily if need be. 

Zim wasn’t sure where Skoodge had produced the mattress from, but it had appeared in his base just today, with Skoodge proudly gesturing to it. “We can sleep here, now!”

And it was the most comfortable that Zim had ever felt. Just the right size for the both of them. From the looks of it, it was meant for a single human child, and was far too long for both of their bodies, but that just meant there was plenty of room to spread out. They fit in perfectly. In the bed, and with each other. 

Their bodies snuggled up close, happily enjoying the sound of one another’s soft, steady breathing. Zim loved being pressed up against Skoodge, head against his chest. He loved the sound of his pulse inside his chest. Skoodge was solid and soft and just big enough to completely encapsulate the smaller irken in warmth, and just small enough to make Zim feel as if he wasn’t so little. 

“Hey, Zim?”

“Mm?” He was half asleep, lulled by Skoodge’s sounds and all-encompassing presence. 

“Do you ever want to…” he chuffed nervously. “You know. Do stuff?”

Zim’s eyes opened. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Maybe it’s just me,” Skoodge said, and there was an insecurity to that which caught his attention. “Forget I said anything. Let’s go to sleep.”

Zim sat up, looking down at Skoodge, who, now that he looked, was wide awake. 

“Please tell Zim,” he said gently. Skoodge was the only one he would ever use the word ‘please’ for. He could take everything else, but from Skoodge, he would ask nicely. 

Skoodge was buried up to his shoulders in the blankets, but the edge had been dislodged, which revealed how he was worrying his hands. “You know I love you, Zim.”

“Zim loves you too,” he said softly, completely enamored. 

“Well… I don’t know if anybody ever explained this to you. We’re not supposed to know about it, but of course the knowledge of it gets around anyway.”

“Of what?”

Skoodge looked away from him. “Before we were born artificially, Irkens used to mate with each other.” Sheepishly, he reestablished eye contact. It was difficult for him, but he wanted to remain polite. Zim loved that about him. “I’ve tried it once. It felt… amazing. You usually do it with someone you trust and care about, a lot. I want to mate with you, Zim.”

Zim gave pause. Whatever this ‘mate’ business entailed, if it felt so good, then why wouldn’t he want to do it with Skoodge? Zim would do anything with Skoodge. Anything that was done with Skoodge already felt good. The other Irken was the love of his life. 

“Who did you mate with?”

Again, Skoodge lost the solid footing on his words, acting as if he’d been accused of a crime. “Oh, you know, it was just that one time in the academy, and we were both alone and, and we barely knew each other, and we both just wanted-“

“Too fast!” Cried Zim. “Why does my Skoodge talk so fast!?”

Clearing his throat, he rose, shifting up so that they sat on the bed at eye level. Skoodge was worrying his hands.

“I’m sorry. It’s just that usually you’re only supposed to do that with one person. But I’ve already done it with someone else.” Shame flooded his expression. For Zim, it was unbearable. 

“Why should I care what or who you’ve done whatever with? You’re here now. You told me yourself that the past doesn’t matter. When you forgave Zim.” And with that he placed his hand on Skoodge’s cheek, trying his best to let him know through his eyes that things were alright. “I’ve done far worse things to you than mate or whatever with whoever else.”

Skoodge chuckled, relieved, and placed his hand on the back of Zim’s. “That’s… not what I expected you to say. That’s wonderful, Zim. I… I expected you to be upset and yell at me.”

A panic siren flared in Zim’s head. “What! But… Skoodge. I… I’m so sorry you thought I’d yell at you. Why would you think that? I- I haven’t yelled at you that recently, have I?” And now he was starting to feel insecure. He looked off into the distance to try and remember. 

“No, Zim,” Skoodge answered, in his gentlest way, and pulled Zim’s face back towards himself. “I mean yeah, you yelled at me a lot, but you’re getting a lot better with that now. You’ve been doing great.”

“I have?”

“Yes,” promised Skoodge. He waited a beat. “So… do you want to try mating with me, sometime?”

Zim pretended to look around and shrugged, smiling. “We’re not doing anything now.”

Skoodge blushed, his face going emerald green, eyes with stars in them. “I- I, are you sure? Right now?”

“You said it felt good,” he said, and edged close. “Eh, what other time would be better? When we wake up?”

Skoodge rubbed the back of his neck and giggled nervously. “Any time is the right time to mate with you, Zim. I love you.”

Zim sat stupefied for a moment, before he leaned forward and let his antennae fall to find the others, letting them touch and rub up against Skoodge’s, who did the same, closing his eyes and sighing. Coupled with the blush, the expression was perfect, and Zim looked long to commit it to memory. It was one of the most beautiful things he’d ever seen.   
Eyes still closed, Skoodge murmured. “I… can I touch you?”

“You can always touch me,” Zim murmured back, lost in his love’s reaction to him. It was like it wasn’t fully sinking in. That he was loved. 

“This is different, though.” Skoodge opened his eyes. Something serious was between his eyes, even if he was still blushing. 

“What’s different about it?”

“It’s…” Skoodge shifted on the mattress, and pushed aside the blankets from his legs. Then, he gestured.

“Legs?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head and smirking. “It’s what’s between them.”

Zim didn’t get it. He opened his mouth to ask but shut it again. It took him a beat to arrange another sentence in his head.

“Why don’t you just show me? I grow tired of feeling curious. Please, dear,” he said, stern then soft, touching his fingertips together. If it felt so good, why wasn’t Skoodge doing it already?

“Okay, Zim. We can try it. But the moment it starts to feel weird or bad or just not good, tell me to stop, okay? Do I have your permission?”

Zim wanted to growl with impatience. “Yes, yes, get on with it! I want you to touch me!”

Skoodge leaned forward, falling on his hands, still looking up at Zim with a look in his eyes that was so implacable to him. He didn’t think he’d ever seen it before. 

The other invader lifted one hand, still leaning on the other, and ran his open grip along the side of Zim’s leg, who lifted his arms and looked down, spellbound by the motion. His mouth fell open as his hand roved up, slipping under the hem of his dress. His gloved hand roved up the skin of his belly, grabbing at the small dip in his waist, and rested on his chest. Zim started to relax again, his antennae dropping. The touch was the same in the way that all Skoodge’s touches were- beautiful, and healing. What was different was their intent. Something about it made Zim so excited, so happy to be so close. 

They were close enough now that their foreheads were touching. Skoodge had straightened up to reach higher on Zim’s body, and was now leaning into him, their knees bumped together. 

“Skoodge,” said Zim softly, helplessly enjoying the attention. 

“Hang on,” he replied, and took out his hand from under the dress. Zim wanted to grab it and shove it back under there, onto his chest and belly, but watched as Skoodge started to peel off his gloves.

Zim’s pulse hammered. He’d been waiting for this moment, ever since they’d begun their relationship. To see Skoodge’s hands. He watched as Skoodge tugged off each finger, then slipped it off. 

They were thicker than his hands. Sturdier. They were almost the same size, but Skoodge’s hands were just that much bigger that Zim’s could fit perfectly interlocked. Just like when Skoodge held him. There was more of him to fall back on and disappear into. Zim treasured it.

The other one came off too, and there Skoodge was bare, and vulnerable, looking completely different without them on. Not so different that Zim couldn’t appreciate it, though. He loved those hands.

Without saying anything, Zim tugged off his own gloves, with much less patience and finality that Skoodge had, who looked at his finely boned fingers with much the same sentiment that Skoodge had looked at his.

And he was right. Their hands did fit perfectly together. All the sensations that had been dulled by the gloves were now open to him. Their fingers interlocked, palms pressed, and their antennae found each other without being prompted. 

“They’re so beautiful,” Skoodge said reverently. “Your hands. They’re so…” he took one hand, guided it forth to his face, and pressed his lips there. They were warm with blush. The other hands were still clasped, suspended in the air above their shoulders. 

An unfamiliar feeling bloomed up in Zim’s belly. He wanted those bare hands all over him. He wanted every inch of him caressed. 

Possessed with longing, he edged closer to Skoodge, their hands still connected, and bumped his forehead against his. There was that sound coming out of him again, the high, secretive singing which his only frame of comparison was with Earth insects. 

Gently, Skoodge unhooked one of his hands from Zim’s, and stroked it down from his waist to his hip. Insistently, Zim lifted the hem of his dress, shamelessly encouraging Skoodge to put his bare hands on him, and he did. He took his hand up and then downward again, then pulled down at the waistband of his leggings over the bony wing of his hip.

Zim, for whatever reason, felt himself overheating, and a soft sound escaped him that he hadn’t previously known he could make. 

“Skoodge?” He asked, in a voice with less than half the weight it normally had. It was confused, and desperate, for more of whatever this was. Zim edged his hips closer, instincts that were thousands of millennia old pushing his body forward. He felt so hot. 

Taking the cue, Skoodge dipped his bare hand beneath the waistband, sliding over the small space of his belly until his fingers cupped around his pubic bone. He found the wetness, the nectar as he parted the lips, exploring in the dark with his fingers, and discovered the little hook of his clitoris, and it began to squirm under his touch. 

“Oh,” said Skoodge, surprised. “You- you…”

“What?” Asked Zim, still blushing furious emerald under Skoodge’s ministrations. Now was not the time to ask questions, he thought. Not while Zim looked so beautiful while being touched. 

“You’re so wet,” he said instead. 

“I am?” Then, as Skoodge rubbed, rolling his fingers around, Zim’s eyes filled with stars. “I am,” he repeated, softly. “What does this mean?”

“It means you’re ready to mate,” said Skoodge, smiling. “If you feel ready?”

“If it involves more of this touching,” said Zim, and placed his own hand on Skoodge’s hip. “What… what do you have? Should we see each other?”

“You mean, remove our clothing?” Zim nodded, half-lidded, and gasped as Skoodge hit a tender spot correctly. 

Without saying anything else, Skoodge pulled out his hand from the waistband and brought his fingers to his mouth. Zim looked on with somewhat of a disgusted expression as Skoodge sucked his essence off of his fingers. 

“Wh- wh- you-“

“You taste good,” Skoodge answered, shrugging. From then on, he took a different approach. He took Zim’s shoulders and carefully encouraged him downward towards the mattress. So he wasn’t laying uncomfortably on his PAK, Skoodge guided him down onto his side so that he was still looking up, eyes full of the white stars they’d both seen, and the curiosity that Zim surely felt. Then Skoodge pulled at the waistband of Zim’s leggings, tugging them down to his knees, revealing the wetness dripping from his center, and the little squirming pink hook of a clit that Skoodge let out an impatient sigh at. 

He was losing himself. Skoodge stood up on his knees, pulling the waistband of his own leggings down, and pawed at his own pubic mound. He revealed himself by spreading his fingers, and his length slid out, dripping and stiffly waving in small measured movements in the cool air. In dimensions, it was about seven inches long, a deeper, blushing pink than his eyes. The tip was only very slightly rounded, like an oblong bud, bubbling with clear liquid that slid down as it moved. 

“Oh,” said Zim, seeming to finally understand, and finished kicking off his leggings. “I- is that…”

“I want to be inside you,” Skoodge said huskily, somewhat shy. He was painfully aware of the pudge falling just above his length, and how he and Zim had virtually opposite body types. Zim was petite and fine-boned, and he was all softness, not a sharp edge in sight. 

“Will it hurt?” Asked Zim, concern marring the deep green blush. Skoodge wanted to reach down and smooth the features back into bliss. 

“If it does, we’ll stop at once.” Zim nodded, trusting and warm, and flinched as another wave of wetness dripped down onto his inner thigh. As Skoodge edged closer, the thick pink organ pulsing and squirming to reflect how he felt on the inside, he reached forward and touched it, wrapping his dainty fingers around the sloping segments, and moaned as he felt Skoodge’s pulse inside it. 

Skoodge closed his eyes, and almost involuntarily, a little of the end began to wrap around Zim’s finger, who sighed again in excitement. 

“Let Zim see how it feels,” he prompted, completely willing. “Please mate with me,” he begged. 

Skoodge couldn’t argue. With infinite gentleness, he leaned forward onto his hands, shimmying a step onward while Zim’s hips instinctively twisted around and upward, towards his cock. With a mind of it’s own, the tip licked over Zim’s twitching folds gently, searching for the entrance, and pried the hole to one side, making Zim yelp with surprise and pleasure. 

Skoodge groaned as it tilted inside, and segment by segment, made its way into the squirming pool of Zim’s pussy, which hungrily grasped for him within, all the tiny cilia making up the dewy walls stroking towards the deeper part of himself. Skoodge, overcome with sensation, fitted his bare hands over Zim’s hips, and began pumping himself inside, setting a slow, restrained, and careful pace. All while Zim gasped with heated abandon, taking Skoodge’s writhing length painlessly inside. 

“Ah- ah! You feel so good! Wh-why have I never heard of this ‘mating’ before?”

Skoodge only grunted, taking one hand up Zim’s torso, pushing up his dress, and feeling his chest, where the part of their internals that pumped blood was, its pulse racing.   
Zim could feel the tip of Skoodge brushing against the deepest part of himself, kissing the inner walls gently, all while the rhythm kept bunching up the organ so that it grew thicker inside him at different intervals. His pussy helplessly gushed, and his tongue hung out from the corner of his mouth, gasping as the unfamiliar sensations made him feel these incredible, unfamiliar things, pleasures which were completely unheard of. He couldn’t believe they were real, and that they were with Skoodge. The most important individual in his world, now. 

Zim stuttered his lover’s name, whimpering as Skoodge lost himself further in Zim and pumped faster, their hips striking to make lewd noises, all while they were both entirely melted into the other. 

The frequencies shuddered to a hard, growing aura inside Zim’s lower belly. He held Skoodge’s hand to his bare skin with both of his own hands. 

Then Skoodge stilled for a moment, drifting to one side, and still inside Zim, eased down onto the mattress. His belly cuddled against the base of Zim’s back, and Zim’s PAK settled against the other’s chest. Skoodge made him gasp by lifting his leg, stroking upwards as he held it under the knee, and eased the other arm underneath Zim so he could still hold that hand against his heart for leverage. Zim squealed as the length inside him fell into a rhythm he was completely helpless to, feeling it curl and uncurl in his belly, stroking along all the most longing parts of himself, grinding against the cilia with intensifying shivers. 

They were both singing, making the cooing, pleasured song. Skoodge’s was a little lower, but mingled with Zim’s song perfectly, while he sang louder, almost as if to say ‘I love you more.’ It met with their gasps and grunts in a cacophony of pleasure in the quiet hum of the base. 

He felt Skoodge’s hot breath against the back of his neck, down his collar, and turned his head slightly in that direction, finding Skoodge’s blissed-out expression in the corner of his eye, and reaching around to touch his soft cheek.

Something about the movement, however slight, made Skoodge press up against him that much more in a new angle, and Skoodge’s hips went flush with his as they came. Zim tightened around him, letting out a reedy shout, cut off by the gasp he had to let in as his clit gushed. There was a new fullness inside him, building pressure, as Skoodge continued to spasm with him. 

Then their muscles unlocked. Skoodge relaxed, setting down Zim’s leg with a sigh, as he pulled backwards, parting their hips from one another as he moved up to squeeze Zim’s hands. When he was out, Zim felt his entrance pumping out the fluids he was sure were his mate’s, which made him look down, parting his legs again to regard the ejaculate slipping from his parted folds. He wondered what it tasted like. If Skoodge said he tasted good, Zim could only imagine what his mate tasted like. 

“Was it,” breathed Skoodge, “good?”

“Good?” Asked Zim, incredulously. “Did my Skoodge not hear my voice?” Zim turned, holding back a frown as the fluids turned with him. He met Skoodge’s eyes, relaxed, and the small exhausted smile. 

“I heard you, alright,” scoffed Skoodge, his antennae sliding ahead of his face to meet with Zim.

“Mate with me again,” said Zim suddenly, grasping his cheek. Skoodge’s eyes went wide again. 

“A-again? I don’t know if I could-“

Then Zim’s other hand roved down his belly and to his cock, still out in the open, and grasped longingly. He couldn’t argue with that, shifting so that they were both comfortably within one another’s hold, arms intertwined, as their songs rose up from their chests to meet each other with new bliss. 

“O-oh. Perhaps… just once more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in the words of Phyllored, now Phyllorhiza, 'first we heal, then we FUCK.'  
I don't have anything else to say. This was a joy to write. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!  
Again, if you have any requests, contact me at @metallisci on tumblr. Refer to the last chapter for guidelines.  
My next work will be another request that is very personal to the requester, and I can't wait to show it to you all!   
Have a great day, and thanks for reading!!


	5. Cookies for Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim is very, very good at treating his lovers. This scenario in particular occurs over breakfast. What, you thought he'd be selfish? He's not very flattered you think so.   
His lover, the humanoid alien, who shall remain nameless, will be having cookies. Lovingly baked by an Irken who fully intends to spoil him on this fine winter morning. Zim, however, is hungry for something else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was requested by a very good fandom friend of mine who wished to remain anonymous. Here's to you, my dude!! It was an absolute pleasure working with you. I had a blast writing it. Hope you can feel the love!!  
Enjoy your meal!

Waking up on days like this, where snow was visibly adrift through the window, made it easier on the rest of the time He had to be awake. 

Today, He didn’t have to go outside. Didn’t have to make any interactions other than the ones He wanted. In the apartment, it was warm and cozy, and He was content to stay like this, bundled up in the comforter with just the suggestion of the winter outside touching his eyes, lazily opening and closing, until it was a little too bright to doze again.   
Sighing, He drifted to one side, to feel for the one that shared his bed- to find that side empty.

On cue, there was a noise elsewhere in the apartment. Everything was louder in the kitchen. Something had clattered, when in reality it had probably only just been set down.   
He got up, the pleasure of the early afternoon on his day off disrupted by the absence of Zim. It wasn’t often He agreed to begrudgingly crawl in bed beside him, but he could tell that the Irken enjoyed it. While Zim kept small hours, just falling asleep long enough to cuddle up to his back and be warm, these were always the most tender moments for the both of them, even if it was never verbally acknowledged. 

Zim didn’t know it, but he snored. It was a soft sound, almost hesitant, but whenever he exhaled as he slept, there was the chime of crickets. It was a summery sound, which warmed his bed. It reminded him of the crying of cicadas, if their cries came with sleep, and only breathed out the noise. 

That he was not waking up to it was immensely dissatisfying. He made his way to the kitchen, stepping softly, hoping to surprise Zim. He found the alien, his back turned to him, wearing a pair of oven mitts and standing, fully dressed even in his wig and contacts, at the oven door. It was like a formality that Zim used, disguising himself so that he felt fully dressed, even when there was no need to conceal himself. 

He stood and watched Zim for a few moments, knowing that his poor hearing hadn’t detected him at all. Zim was staring intently at the oven door, and turned when he finally cleared his throat at the open doorway of the kitchen, smiling sweetly down at the alien, who blinked several times in surprise. 

“I have made coffee,” he croaked quietly. “And there was to be a surprise, but you awakened earlier than I’d hoped.”

“Have I?” He replied, then strode over to the coffee pot, pleased at Zim. He wasn’t sure where all this was coming from, but it was certainly welcome. It almost made up for the fact that he had to wake up to an empty bed.

Zim made an affirmative sound, then gazed again at the oven door. “I am waiting now for the completion of the cookies.”

“Cookies for breakfast?” He asked, feigning being taken aback, but really not surprised at all. The other alien was a sucker for sweets. 

What was surprising, however, was that he was making the cookies himself. Indeed, the counter was strewn with the ingredients. From the looks of it, Zim had tried to keep things as neat as possible, closing all the containers, and leaving only a little residue here and there which he would clean as soon as the cookies were done, He guessed. It was funny that Zim was standing and waiting for the cookies to be done instead of cleaning up while he waited, but He guessed that the alien wanted everything to be just right. 

Zim trilled softly, closing his eyes. “Mm, the oven is so warm,” he said, not particularly speaking to anybody. At the small kitchen table, he sipped his coffee, watching Zim stand there, eyes closed, leaning just so towards the aura of the warmth. He could almost hear his antennae twitching beneath the wig. 

This really was love, wasn’t it? It had been a few months since Zim had unofficially moved in. Of course he still lived at the base, but he’d been spending more and more time relaxing there in this apartment since his plans for world domination had grown loose. Sleeping there, growing softer with him, as he learned to love. Learned to love him. 

A timer went off, and Zim was at the perfect height to pull down the oven door. When he tugged the tray out, he elevated himself on his PAK legs to slide the hot tray onto the top of the stove. Then, as he lowered himself, he turned to him. The gravity of Zim’s pause caught him in his tracks. Like something scheming, something trying to be cunning but was really just kind. But with a gleam to it, touching his gaze and poring deep into him. 

“Now we must wait for them to cool,” he said in an odd voice, and tugged off the mitts. Underneath, he still wore his black gloves. He extended one, an implacable expression on his face. Having the contacts in made it easier to tell what he was feeling. So many expressions were unlocked with them in place. This one was one of… lust. “Come and sit with Zim,” he crooned. 

Oh. He set the coffee down on the counter, lured by that voice. So odd when it wasn’t shouting or screaming or howling with laughter. Just wanting, and loving. It was hypnotic. He could feel himself being pulled forward without much effort at all. 

He followed Zim out of the kitchen to the couch, where he crawled up with him, sitting together so that he was reclined against the arm rest, legs laid out in front of him on the cushions. Zim was slowly edging forward towards his legs. In a trance, He parted them, mouth falling open as Zim took the cue to begin stroking his inner thighs with a fascination with his human-like features that only he could have. Almost human, but just enough that Zim could appreciate him, in all the ways humans fell short of him. There could be no other lover just the same. 

Coming forward, breathing just loud enough that he could hear, Zim crawled and trilled his cricket trill, intent behind his contacts. The Irken pawed at his belly, kneading with gloved hands at the humanoid before him, almost like a cat. Then, overcome, he fell forward to rest his head on his chest. The cricket trills were easier to hear, now, and he felt them almost a part of his own chest, while Zim moved against his warmth, moaning quietly. As if that simple touch was enough. 

Bemused, the taller alien scoffed, hiding his arousal. He didn’t want to seem too eager, but it seemed that Zim was just as turned on. If not more. “What’s gotten into you?”  
“I wish to please you,” Zim said lowly, and lifted his head. “My lover, my friend.”

He felt so warm, listening. He didn’t hold back from taking Zim’s head in his tan hands and pulling his face close. 

Kissing was something that Zim could not abide by, in the first few months of their relationship. But, as he’d gotten to know him, he’d come to love exploring his mouth and throat with his tongue. He moaned as Zim did just that, carefully swirling around him, touching cheek and teeth until gently probing down his throat. Below him, He felt himself getting wet, and adjusted his hands along Zim’s sides, grasping at his waist. All while Zim straddled his belly and held onto his shoulders, as if bracing himself for the intensity of it all. One hand reached up, combing his claws through his dark hair. His lips, full and velvety, caught the Irken’s smaller one’s hostage. Zim domineered more with his tongue. They balanced well, in this way. 

The heat grew between them, and as their faces parted for a breath, Zim was half-lidded, trembling with desire. 

Awkwardly, Zim edged back on top of his body until he dropped back between the humanoid’s legs, petting the thighs again, grabbing handfuls of flesh in his claws along the way, making his way up until he was brushing up past the edge of his black boxers. His hand was small enough that it could reach comfortably past the hem of the fabric so that his gloved claws could tease the space beside his center, leering as lovingly as Zim could up to him as he did. All while the Irken’s shoulders shook, brimming with need, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. From experience, He knew that Zim’s dick was slipping out from his sheath under his leggings, sliding against his inner thigh. He bit his lip hungrily, shifting his hips in a hinting motion, and Zim pulled his hand out to instead place it on the waistband of his boxers to slowly tug.

He tried not to seem so eager, but there he was, assisting him in pulling them down, until they were lazily pushed down towards his ankles, Zim ducking underneath the fabric, eyeing his revealed center with a carnal hunger. 

“My mate told me we were having cookies for breakfast,” he said, his voice guttural and needy, tongue slipping out between words as if he could no longer contain it. “That is what you will be having, not me.”

Then, without warning, Zim dipped his head low, and his tongue slithered out to meet his mate’s center, curling around him, grasping at the dewy features before slipping inside.   
He couldn’t contain himself, crying out at the suddenness of it all, all this eagerness to please him. It was divine. He felt like a king. This was the thing that had Zim wanting to please others… it was him. It was domesticity. But, mostly him. 

Zim’s tongue, while beautiful in all its prehensile glory, was a poor substitute for his dick, after a while. He was already warm, and needed it badly. Still, pleased, he placed a hand on the nape of Zim’s neck. He could almost feel Zim grinning triumphantly against him as he fed himself. He wondered if he tasted as good to Zim as Zim tasted to him. By the low, growling and chirping sounds he made into him, it would appear so. 

“Enjoying your meal?” Zim responded by drinking deeply, slurping up the juices, and shifting so that his knees were bent up under him. Zim braced himself by resting his hands on either leg, eating well. 

“Wait,” He gasped, as Zim touched something inside him that needed to be saved. It was too much. “I’m going to cum. Zim, wait.”

The irken lifted his face, licking his soaked lips. His antennae had apparently been twitching furiously, picking up the sweet pheromones in the air, because now the hairpiece was askew. It made him smile.

“Now, fuck me,” he commanded, and opened his legs that much wider. 

Like he’d been born to do so, Zim lifted the hem of his dress, revealing the telling bulge that had slipped down one pantleg. The smaller alien was breathing heavily, and he noticed with a twitch that Zim’s cock was squirming underneath the fabric, soaked through with sweet-smelling juices. 

“Fuck me,” He commanded again, softer, spellbound by the display of wanting. In the middle of the request, Zim had shoved the soaked leggings down, freeing his vivid pink cock, which curled and uncurled in the open air, probing and meeting no resistance. As if searching for a hole to fuck. The thick base shoved his sheath open, completely unleashed from his body, hot and sticky and so close to fucking him like He needed. Zim awkwardly shuffled forward, very close to drooling, and he was close to gasping with need as he positioned himself close between his open thighs, his dick searching, flailing lazily against his skin.

“Need you inside me,” he said huskily, and wantonly grasped his hips in his larger hands, motivating Zim closer, until the tip of the cock which had a mind of its own found his center and dipped inside. 

Since Zim’s dick was thinner at the tip than it was at the base, steadily growing thicker, he had learned over time just how to tease his lover. Slowly, then curling and uncurling against his insides, until he was smooth up to the hilt. 

“Ungh, can’t… can’t go slow this time. I need you to fuck me hard,” he begged. There was something deep inside that needed, longed to be stroked. 

“Thank irk you said that,” said Zim, still licking his lips as if tasty traces of his breakfast were still on the edges. “I can’t hold myself back any longer.”

Then, abruptly, Zim shoved himself flush, pushing him open hard with the thick base of his cock, and he almost screamed. It came out like a cut-off cry, then fell to startled gasping, disbelieving at how the thickness stretched him. 

Zim’s head was rolling around in the deepest parts of him, touching that need with careful, but desperate fire, doubling over within. There was a moment of repose where he placed his hand on his stomach, feeling how full of Zim he was. 

“Prepare yourself,” Zim leered, then began bucking his hips, laughing low in his throat as he did, giving him little time to prepare, after all. 

“O-oh!” 

Zim was good at multitasking when it came to sex. The more mobile end explored him, feeling all the sweetest spots, pressing on them and slithering within him and pulling all his deepest longings apart, while he fucked hard with the base of his cock, filling him up again and again with heady slaps of skin against skin. The way he was pushed open, feeling so full in all angles, never failed to satisfy him.

Zim paused, rolling his own hips, satisfied with himself. His expression broke into one of unadulterated pleasure, brow screwed up and baring his teeth, before he opened his eyes, mouth morphing into a proud grin. 

“How does that suit you, my dear?”

“Shut up and fuck me harder!”

Zim obeyed, laughing low before the growling chuckles dissolved into moans, losing himself inside the taller alien. Wanting nothing more other than to make him cum. Nothing made Zim happier than having him, holding him hostage to the relentless rhythm, feeling himself reel inside, making him wet and hot and his. 

“You’re mine,” he managed between breaths, authoritative like he’d longed to be, his thrusts into the man beneath him losing all sense of timing, ragged and frenzied, needing to make him cum. Within, his cock had begun doing mindless somersaults, the head burrowed and stretching him all that much further in all directions, licking at all the buttons that needed pressing. 

Zim came in hard, vicious spurts, deeper inside than he’d ever felt. He took it all, eyes rolling back into his head. His hand clapped over his mouth, taking the load with a long, drawn out moan, his muscles clenching around Zim. The irken had succumbed to full-body twitches, spasming hard as he let go inside his lover. His eyes were shut tight, and as he came down, drawing himself slowly out, letting his tongue slip out the side of his mouth. 

“How was that… the best sex we’d ever had?” He pursed his lips as Zim slipped fully out, and a wave of cum followed, leaking out onto his ass. Zim made a choked sound, then his head dove forward once more to clean up the mess he’d made. “Mmm… don’t let any on the couch.”

Zim gave a final sweep, sucking it all into his mouth, and swallowed as if it was the most decadent thing he’d ever tasted. “I didn’t intend to,” he answered, almost offended.   
He was so aloft in the post-orgasm high, staring at the ceiling, that He didn’t take notice much to Zim slipping out underneath the boxers still around his ankles, and off the couch. Boots hit tile, and there was a hydraulic sound that He recognized as PAK legs unfolding from his back. He wasn’t in the mood to move, and it was a good thing he didn’t need to, because Zim reappeared. His wig was still crooked, funnily enough. Still blushing, looking fed and satisfied. 

“And now, dear, as I have already eaten, here is your breakfast.” And he presented the cookie, and the mug of coffee, both still warm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year everyone!!


	6. Artificial Barbarism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim tries to create his own lover, in his desperation for sexual relief. Unfortunately... he makes a few miscalculations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up buttercups, this is the most intense one I've done yet. I combined a few different scenarios I was going to write, and I'm pretty happy with most of it.   
You thought the one with Grimin was a little intense?  
Shyeah. Try this one!

Zim was not good at acknowledging his needs. Especially needs that he should by no means be having, desires that were forbidden and uncouth.

Usually it was by accident that he discovered human activities, and, within the privacy of his own base where he would try these things out, then subsequently and deliberately push these acts into the back of his mind, and try to forget that he had done them at all. 

Recently he’d found his hands between his legs more often than not. It was the most direct he’d been with his desires, as of late, that he could recall.

It had become a filthy habit, that was strictly horrifying, yet stemmed from a desire he could not possibly repress. He would close his eyes tightly and rub with gloved fingers, exploring the hole there with feverish, eager strokes. Twitching and shuddering as pleasures that were previously entirely unfamiliar crashed through him and had him close to screaming. If he had that much less dignity not to stifle those cries with his clean hand. 

He’d withdraw his hands from underneath the fabric of his leggings, grimacing in disgust at the transparent liquid coating his gloves. 

On particularly bad days, he’d do it twice. 

The desperate obsession with pleasuring himself became a dread he had. It became much more of a fear than those he’d had of being discovered and dissected, which was a nigh-constant worry. Now it was much more about dreading when he’d have the insatiable need to pleasure himself again.

After spending some few weeks living in fear, he decided on a solution.

This one, which he barely considered before beginning the project, was to create a robot that would pleasure him so he wouldn’t have to. 

It would be brilliant. It’s facsimile of a phallus would, of course, have to be huge. And it would be very tall. There could be nothing less to please the mighty Zim. 

And it would save him the embarrassment of having to touch his own filthy breeding parts. 

He spent a few nights, hardly taking any breaks, to complete the sex-bot. Zim pored hard over rushed designs, and spent many hours bent over the table where its parts lay fast coming together. The one time GIR came down to bother him, Zim screamed at him so loud that the little robot started sobbing and fled. He had no time at all to feel any guilt over it. 

When it was done, he unbent his back, gasping as his vertebrae cracked after being so long in the uncomfortable position. At the moment, he was too tired to use it, never mind that it was fully functional. At the time he’d started it, he really thought he’d rush to activate it for the first time now that it was finished. Until he rested, he could not bring himself to. And besides that, he wasn’t feeling any desire. 

Zim crawled into his closet nest of blankets, wearing only his undergarments, and cuddled one of the covers to his chest. With the warmth of his PAK filling the small enclosure with pleasant heat, he was asleep in mere minutes. 

When he awoke, it was late at night. There was nowhere he needed to be. At once, as his eyes flickered open, while his PAK informed him of how long he’d slept, the robot was in his thoughts. As he lie there, allowing himself a few more moments of rest, he closed his legs a little tighter in anticipation, already feeling wetness pool there. 

He refused to touch himself as he bathed, within the same hour. But he looked at the heavy door of the cleansing chamber, as if worried his creation would be just behind it. 

It wasn’t. He stood, feeling foolish, as he exited, steam floating from the opened chamber.

From the doorway of the cleansing chamber, he shouted, “computer! Close off this room. Lock it well.”

‘Ugh… whatever.’

Naked, he walked barefoot through the lab, feeling strange and apprehensive. It was an unusual feeling not to have his boots or gloves. His sensitive hands’ senses were heightened without the latex barrier. Were you supposed to be naked when you mated? He wasn’t completely sure. It wasn’t as though he’d had anyone or anything to teach him about things of this nature. Not in their repressed society. 

He faced the robot with no small amount of fear. His little heart beat quickly until his PAK administered a calming shock to slow it, sensing the abnormal rate. 

It sat in a chair, arms calmly rested at its sides, with an indifferent mask of a face. The pale violet unlit eyes looked at him as if anticipating him, also. It said something of his imagination, which Irkens should not have. 

And of course, it was at least twice his height. With a silicone member standing straight and proud out between the base of his legs. 

He’d modeled the phallus after a few human examples. Though it shamed him to do so, there were no files on Irken genitalia that he could access, and he hadn’t been brave enough to delve any further than one or two human pornography sites. 

It was self-lubricating, with its own individual heating mechanism. 

He couldn’t wait to put it inside him. 

For this first exercise, he decided he wanted to be in control. Its main purpose was to act on its own, acting just as a normal sexual partner would, except with mindless voice command instead. A perfect mate. But before he commanded it to do anything, he would be the only one moving. For him to feel more comfortable, it was necessary. It would stay put for now until he commanded it otherwise, letting him satisfy himself under his own power.

From a table nearby, he closed his fingers around the remote, and activated the machine by turning the dial. The lights of its eyes glowed slowly to life, and the phallus facsimile gave a twitch as its internal systems were switched on and it began to warm itself. 

Zim smiled tightly, running his tongue over his teeth inside his mouth.

It only took a moment or so before the calm noise of it whirring softly underneath the metal plating let him know it was sufficiently warmed. Zim, made calm by force of his PAK, climbed carefully into its lap, tweeting softly inside his throat as he came close to the thing that was longer than his forearm. 

His own lubrication mixed with the artificial one as he sat himself so that the cock was seated between his legs, with the shaft pushing against his sex. Zim held onto its arms for leverage as he moved his hips up and down, rubbing himself experimentally against the soft-yet-firm, slick material. Already, his eyes pressed closed, he heard himself moan, and one of his antennae twitched forward in the air. His breathing increased, heat flushing through him, creating an emerald blush on his cheeks and chest. 

Experimentally, though he wished he didn’t need to do so, he dipped two fingers inside of him to see that he was sufficiently open enough to receive such a huge object inside him- which he hastily deemed it was. 

He had to stand up on his toes in order to line himself up with it, and removed himself for a moment to turn around so that his chest was facing the robot’s, so he could hold onto its shoulders or wrap his arms around its neck.

Again, his pubic mound sat squarely atop the smooth rounded head, parting the lips, and began to release himself so that he could begin to slide down on top. 

Oh- oh, wait! This wasn’t right! It hurt… it wasn’t supposed to hurt. He stood up more, taking in a breath. Impatiently, he waited another too-quick moment before trying again.   
“Ah- ah! Stupid sex-bot,” he grumbled. For his first command, he voiced, “sex-computer. Produce more lubricant.”

Without a voice, the robot obeyed, only beeping twice before Zim felt more liquid ooze out against his folds, making him gasp. 

“Yes, good,” he said huskily, and rolled himself around the head of the cock before making the third attempt. The bulbous front end would be a little more difficult to fit inside him, but he slowly felt it pierce him, his mouth dropping open. He lifted himself and lowered again, feeling more of it fitting inside him each time. “S-sex-computer. W-warmer.”  
Two more beeps, and the phallus leaked more heat directly into his core, opening him up that much more. 

When he finally fit the entirety of the head in, it was a major success. It already felt as if there was so much inside him. The whole process had taken roughly ten minutes, and he was loathe to lift himself again so that he could drop more of its weight onto it again. Each time, it felt a little further going in, and Zim had started to give out open-mouthed pants, desperate and impatient to fit more and more. 

Eventually, his eyes went wide as he felt something inside him give way, and he slid down slowly, his hands drifting down to the robot’s steely chest, and the length putting pressure into his lower back as it made its way into him, until he slid to a stop. He could feel it hitting the ceiling of his breeding channel, pressing against his spooch, creating a long bulge up his stomach. In reverence, he touched the top of the bulge, letting out small, high sounds of disbelief as the sensations of being completely full were close to overwhelming. 

His entrance hovered some three or four inches above the base of the member. He looked down to see his own lips parted by the barbarically thick intrusion, and moaned breathily as another spark of arousal hit him hard. Zim spent a few moments, gasping, his own short dick twitching in the air as he got used to the feeling. 

“O-okay sex-computer. Hold my waist.” 

The long, segmented fingers, padded with more violet silicone, gripped onto his sides, the fingers meeting in the middle. Zim couldn’t wait any longer. He adjusted himself in it’s loose grip, edging himself upward so there was room at the end of his channel. It was such a pleasant feeling, so full and being held like this. It felt almost… safe.

“Sex-computer. Begin thrusting. Pace fifty times per minute.”

From under him, the robot somewhat sluggishly lifted its hips up into him, and as it kissed the deepest past of him again, he made a hiccupping noise, his voice cracking. “P-produce more lubricant.”

As it obeyed, some of it dripped down the shaft from the point of his entrance. His claws tightened around the thing’s wiry shoulders. 

Even at the slow pace, it was so difficult to accommodate the length as it was moving. He thought, a little shamefully to himself, that perhaps he should have started with a smaller size. There would have to be some modifications made, and, regretfully, more research done. There had to be another species with a satisfactory size and shape from which he could model it after. For now, he’d have to deal with this behemoth until he’d gotten off. 

He shut his eyes, enjoying the strange sensation, the sensitive inner walls completely unused to being touched. There was a little shame involved in the act, too. What would his Tallest say, should they hear him making these disgusting lewd noises like this? 

“Sex-computer… increase current pace by five paces per minute.”

The slight increase made him arch his back, crying out. He tried to soften his cries, if only to preserve his own dignity that much more. He’d already built the damn thing, and now perhaps it was time to revel in this rather than hold back. Zim tossed his head back, grinning. 

Then the fingers around his waist tightened. 

“W-wait. Hold on. Sex-computer! I did not give the order!”

No reply, and no physical response. Of course… he hadn’t given it that power. 

Apparently, though, he’d inadvertently given it some kind of power, for the thrusts increased pace on their own accord. 

“A-ah! Sex- sex-computer! What is the meaning of this?!”

He whined at the increase in pace he was not prepared for, releasing one hand to beat at it’s chest. 

“Sex-computer! Engage failsafe! Cease all operations!”

It didn’t stop. Panic flared in Zim’s chest. Desperate, yet dismayed in the back of himself somewhere, he began to extend the point of a PAK leg, aiming for its head. This could not continue. He needed to be in control. 

Then, a violent blur. Its hold on him shifted, and as he was moved between the tiny space of one second, his vision went black. When he saw again, he was on the floor, PAK pressed into his back. The robot still thrusting upwards. It cast it shadow over him, holding its weight down onto its shoulders. The pace had become close to relentless for how unused to the size he still was. The lack of self-control it had, mindlessly pounding into him, made him disoriented and breathless, trying to clutch onto something for support. His claws scraped helplessly against the smooth floor. 

Zim squawked. He couldn’t access his PAK materials this way! The strength of the thing, the materials used to build it… he was no match. Not without assistance. 

“Computer!” He cried, after a few moments, sweat beading on his temples. “Help- help me! I’m trapped!”

No response. Through the sensations of being fucked so mercilessly, he realized that by locking down this sector, the vocal interface had been locked down as well. How could he have been so careless!?

“Please!” He screeched, then yelped as the pace, already barbaric, increased. Above him, the robot proceeded with its operations with cold, uncaring eyes, mesmerized by its poor, rushed programming. Zim moaned, pinned as he was, and kicked his legs around the thing fast tearing into him while he tried in vain to think of a solution to free him from its influence. 

The pressure in Zim’s lower belly started another sensation entirely. He looked down, dizzied and overloaded, and watched as his own phallus, previously a nondescript, short little thing, began to lengthen from the top of his sex. It was as if the pressure of being fucked was releasing it further from his body. The soft pink segmented thing was slick with juices, the slightly rounded head dark with arousal. 

It became a little easier, after a minute or two, to take the silicone cock. As his insides warmed, he loosened up, accommodating the length with an easier give. It was a small mercy, as he tossed his head back and forth on the floor, antennae helplessly twitching, starting to go numb at the points of his shoulders where he was pinned. Now that it was less tight, it became less difficult to enjoy what was happening to him. He was losing himself, squealing with overwhelmed pleasure and the sensation of being helpless, to such primitive indulgences, completely. 

His cock, still lengthening that much more in intervals, prompted the pressure beneath it, began to twitch and ache where it was standing. Zim wanted to touch it so badly. When he tried to reach it, though, the unforgiving angle at which his shoulders were pinned would not let him. He tried a few times, lifting his arm, trying to move it under the incredible heft of the thing, and whimpered as the strength fled his body. 

The sensations had him drift… climbing. Zim went briefly numb, then felt all his muscles tighten as sensation slammed back into him. 

This first orgasm crashed over his entire self, hard. It burst inside him, the knot squeezing and then blooming outward, the bruising rhythm pulsing through him all the while. Zim shuddered uncontrollably, knees going inward, fingers and toes clenched, and he let out a stuttering scream. 

His cock twitched hard, the pressure shattering, pieces of it hitting all points, and released hard, lifting then falling as hot pink cum shot out onto his stomach. It was the second half of his orgasm, for which he screamed louder. 

The tail-end of the bubble bursting clenched and unclenched his muscles, until he at last went limp.

For a long, warm moment, he was floating, pleasantly suspended in midair. There was nothing for which he had to worry about. 

There was something that was a little familiar now, softly probing the dream. A rhythm, that as he came back to himself, grew in intensity. 

Then he knew what it was. He was still being fucked. Hard. 

No! He’d already climaxed! He was already exhausted, filthy with his own ejaculate. The bot hadn’t even let up a little. 

“P-please… sex-computer. Slow down. Zim implores you,” he begged, croaking.

Looking into its eyes didn’t help. It didn’t care for his plight. He wondered if this was how he would look, when he at last took over the Earth. As merciless as this. 

Zim, wriggling around it, had a thought. Exactly where in the programming he’d erred. It was only following its directive. It could listen to nothing else. Anything counterintuitive to that… how could it listen? This was what it was meant to do. It knew nothing else. 

It took him longer to climax, the second time around. His face pinched in disgust as more cum fountained from the tip of his cock, joining the first round on his belly, and sobbed as he lamented his position. He was already so tired. Zim had scanned the immediate area he could see around the hulking figure above him, searching for a solution, and had found none. 

Was this the end of the great Zim? Was this the shameful way he met his fate? Mated to death by a mindless sex drone of his own making? Tears slipped down his cheeks, onto the floor, noticing his arms had gone numb from loss of circulation under sex-computer’s weight. 

He tried kicking at it, but the movement of the thrusts of its abdomen pushed his weakened legs right back at him, until he developed a cramp and couldn’t continue. His third orgasm snuck up on him, and snapped within him like a rubber band. That time, the streak of cum was weaker, and his cock twitched only once.

It must have been hours, proceeded in this way. Where time was of no consequence. He could do nothing but lay there and take it, and the robot showed no signs of slowing. After his sixth orgasm, he lost all feeling in his limbs, and passed out. There was an interminable interval of unconsciousness, and there was no way to tell how long it had been since he’d fainted, nor how many times he came while he was insensate. His PAK was powered by his own consciousness. Without being able to put much energy into it, he could not think enough to have it give him that information. 

Hours later, it must have been, he was weak, in and out of consciousness, and unable to remember what it was like not to be full up to capacity with the thick beast of a cock. The endless rhythm had become a part of his body, and he’d long lost track of how many times it had been that he’d climaxed. He badly wanted to rest, or for the thing to at least let up a little. 

Then, he screamed hoarsely as a different and frightening movement cutting into the thrusting. Zim’s arms and legs flopped like a ragdoll as he was flipped over.   
The new position was difficult to grasp, in his floating consciousness, beaten down by his captor. 

A new reality became slowly apparent.

His PAK was free!

The robot held his hips upward, still with the same rate of action, but there was of course, some space where the PAK could finally breathe. Zim could have sobbed with joy. How long had it been? How long since he’d been pinned?

Zim smiled with anticipation, putting all his energy into accessing the tools in his PAK that he would need. The excitement at the prospect of being free brought back some of the sharpness of his thinking. The remote, set on the table beside the chair sex-computer had been sitting in, was probably just within reach. If he acted quickly, he could knock it down, and grab it. End this madness.

Of course, he had to wait until he regained feeling in his arms. 

In his mind’s eye, he saw the chair and the table just behind them. He’d glimpsed it from over the shoulder of the sex-bot as he’d been pinned. 

As he waited for the crowning moment, he sneered at the sensations of the cum dried and still sticky, on his belly, and his overstimulated center, knowing no end to the torment.   
Zim tested his arms carefully, flexing his claws subtly, so that the robot wouldn’t see. They ached with pins and needles, cold and empty-feeling, but at least he could move them.   
Acting fast, inciting a countdown, he released a leg in a hiss of movement, scrabbling blindly behind him until he felt something give, and heard something clatter. 

In his periphery, there was the small purple box. 

The robot did seem to notice. It released one hand from Zim’s hip and pressed it down onto his PAK, pressing his chest uncomfortably onto the floor. The pressure on his PAK pushed his shoulder blades apart, bending his spine inward until the discomfort was almost unbearable. It almost became more of a concern than the pounding, the whirring noises that were lewd because of what they meant, filling the quiet lab with a distinct noise of metal on skin that Zim wished he could block out. 

But Zim had already gotten what he needed. He chuckled madly to himself, swiping for it. Then stopped as he saw another problem.

It was… just out of reach. By an inch. Less than that. Zim could have screamed if he had the vocals for it. If it would have moved it any closer. But he couldn’t even do that.   
Eventually, after scraping after it for who knew how long, one claw hooked on a corner, and it spun. Part of it became closer. The strain on his body, the pressure on his back and the hot, overworked, dirty lower half of him all reached, used every last bit of strength. 

He caught it with his claw, dragged it forward against the ground, and switched the dial all the way to zero.

The robot slumped against him, pinning him. By doing so, it’s weight fell the member, stilling it inside him to the hilt, and Zim came for a last time with a wheeze. The last bit of cum dribbled out of him and onto the floor. 

Zim sobbed under the weight of it, exiting the post-coitus quickly before starting to struggle, the dead weight of the beast still inside him becoming more and more urgent as it was getting harder to breathe. 

After struggling like a bug under a boot, he at last found the energy he’d stored up into his PAK, and released the metal struts that would allow him to push it up just that much. Trembling with the effort, he slipped through the exit which happened to be its limp arms, which he brushed aside just enough, and the rubbery cock slid out of him almost the same moment that he was out, gasping, falling onto his front as the robot collapsed in a mess of long limbs like the structural integrity of a burning house. 

Zim wallowed in confusion for a few minutes, struggling to gain a sense of what had just happened. That he wasn’t still there. That he wasn’t still being fucked. 

He could still feel it, punishing his insides. In fact, he had to cast a few weary looks over his shoulder, cheek to the cold floor, to make certain that he hadn’t dreamed up his escape. 

That was the way he fell asleep. 

Zim had thrown the horrible thing directly into the incinerator, when he’d managed to pick himself up again. It had taken a while. He wished never to look upon it again. 

After the nightmare ended, it took him some time to regain his strength. There was a constant throbbing ache in his core, and against (what he did not know was called) his cervix. Often, he had to use the PAK legs to get around the base because it pained him to walk. 

There were no desires of any kind now. He wasn’t sure when he’d feel any again. 

GIR seemed to notice his master was quieter, and meeker when responding, and so tried to cheer him up, in his strange little ways. 

He brought a stray cat into the base. That certainly didn’t last long under Zim’s duress. 

For a week or so, he could be found in his base, all doors open, with a pinched expression, hand resting on his sternum. 

Zim began to have dreams, where he was still trapped. The rhythm of the robotic mating was forever burned into his muscle memory. 

It was a few months before he finally felt courage enough to touch himself again. The irken parted his legs lazily, resting his feet up at the command console as he rubbed, slowly and gently. 

It felt… so much safer this way. Just by himself. GIR was out and about, not likely to disturb him. 

This, he decided, was sweeter, as he came with a few short spasms. 

There were so many places he could search for a mate. Irkens weren’t well liked, so it would likely be difficult… difficult, but anything was better than the twenty-eight hours he’d spent, pinned under a mindless machine.

He made a vow to search for one, a viable mate worthy enough for Zim- when he had time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Glad you made it through that okay!!  
I love robots, they're such interesting subjects to write about. I purposefully tried to leave sex-computer's appearance vague so that you could come up with your own, of sorts.   
I don't know if I'm satisfied with the ending, and I may change it yet, with the publishing of the next installment.   
Thank you so much for tuning in again!! I really hope you enjoyed!! I'm working my way through the requests. If you made one, expect it to show up here at least within a month or so!! I will reopen them again if need be whenever I finish the... 5.... yeah, 5 that I have on my list. Thanks again everyone!!


	7. Interlude #1 (Cake)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hypnotist gets to Zim, and decides the Irken is hungry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay everybody, I decided since I'm working on a few different things that may take a while, I'd share some short little request scenarios I personally wrote for some friends as an interlude between longer chapters. This one in particular is not something I'm really into at all, but my friends are really cool! This is for them, you know who you are!! As for the other requests, I'm working on them, albeit slowly. I am currently working on someone's request that was the struggle of two aliens struggling with differing genitalia. Not sure when it will be finished, as it's been a bit of a struggle to write, and I've had quite a bit of homework dumped on me recently, but I still hope you enjoy this one!! If this is something you're into... this may be the kinkiest one yet! Enjoy!!

The hand holding him down was at least the weight of his entire body, and was not letting up an inch of pressure. The palm itself spanned over his hips, either tip of the fingers keeping his wrists pinned. At this angle, he couldn't access his PAK, held back to the ground as he was, so he was forced to stare, breathing heavily up at his captor, who leered at him carefully. "You're hungry," he said in a soft, grinning, grumbling voice. Against his will, Zim's muscles relaxed.

The influence let him up, but one wrist was still pinched between two fingers. It was more than enough to keep him there, with the warm honey circling through his chest and making his legs shiver. Under his leggings, there was a small, shy protrusion that steadily grew, as his eyes, glazed over, did not blink once as they were latched onto the shadowed face of his captor.

The other hand, which Zim's eyes didn't follow, pressed the edge of a piece of cake to his parted lips, which sleepily opened to accept it. The bite rolled around on his tongue before he chewed, and before he could swallow it was there again, the hand feeding him shoving forth the piece. This time, Zim's mouth opened wider to close down on the treat.  
"There, good," said the voice, and pressed his thumb into Zim's soft, sweet mouth, pinching the cheek. Zim gave an open-mouthed sigh as his tongue slipped to that side of his cheek to lick up the remaining frosting.

"See now? You WERE hungry," it cooed again, as Zims head ducked forward to chomp onto the first bite of the second piece. In this way, the cake disappeared, and Zim groaned in the back of his throat as he had no choice other than to accept the many bites following the first, until the hand holding him there no longer had the need to, letting his boneless arm slip to his side, so that his captor could turn part of his attention to the cock slithering against the fabric underneath the Irken's gradually swelling tummy, rolling around the mindless length with his thumb.

When the cake was gone, Zim, unconscious as he was, did not look down, but lifted his arms sleepily to hold his belly, now satisfyingly distended, and his captor took the weight of it in his hand, printing the underside of it with the alien's own slick. "Good. Good boy," he said as Zim hiccuped, starting to struggle to keep the mass of confection he'd just devoured down in his belly. His face ever so slightly pinched through the mesmer.

"You may cum now," was the last suggestion, and Zim threw his little hand over his mouth as his swollen body jerked, the untouched thing between his legs twitching helplessly, as his captor backed out of the lonely room, holding the empty platter, casting a last satisfied glance to the puddle of honey pooling beneath Zim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I warned you. Have a great day!!


	8. Interlude #2- (C.E.O of... you know...)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another interlude wherein Zim is the baddest boss ever! But even friends in high places are entitled to their secrets. That is, unless, a piece of it goes unsupervised.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another thing I wrote for some friends! The next longer chapter should be... coming... soon? I hope! My motivations are all over the place at the moment. Enjoy!!

Zim had very quietly (if you could call anything Zim did quiet) risen in the ranks of the corporate ladder. All those who were under him feared him and his eerie talking patterns, his permanently donned black latex gloves and boots, and the maroon suit that was his daily outfit. Small though he was, there was something distinctly threatening about the way that he spoke, and the way he shut everyone down without thinking. His hair that.... everyone was pretty sure was a wig.

As such, while having to keep up the 'perfectly normal human rat-CEO-man-in-charge-of-you-obey-me-or-die' facade, there were things he'd adapted for use as stress relief. Especially when he was due to make a presentation, and all those directly under him were watching and listening to him, standing at the edge of the long table in the conference room and screaming about the numbers as if they were life or death. He was very persuasive.

The item in question was a compact egg-shaped vibrator. Each day before dressing for work he slipped it inside him, and it sat comfortably within the tight inner walls of his center. The remote was in his blazer pocket, similarly at all times, and he need only to turn a dial to feel that measure of relief.

Except... no one could know. He would almost rather have someone know his true identity as an alien invader than that. But of course, as luck would have it, as he rose up to the head of the table that day for another conference, he somehow left the small box remote with the dial where he'd been sitting, before climbing up a chair onto the surface of the table to begin his dictator's speech. And, when his shouting became white noise, one of the associates who had his eyes set on it curiously, finally picked it up out of boredom and nudged it to the right.

Everyone looked up as he jolted, making one of the odder sounds he'd made since he'd risen in the ranks, and it fell silent. Zim took a breath, blinking slowly and letting out an odd sigh before his eyes shot open wide and he pushed his hand back over his hair and chuckled nervously. "N-nothing to worry about. I just remembered I may have... may have left the- the dog! The dog on. At home, yes."

Several associates exchanged glances, and one of them piped up. "Do you need to call someone at home, or...?"

"SILENCE! All is in order!" He yelped, and twisted one of his knees inward, bending forward a little. He tried to keep the smile plastered on, but there was something behind it.

"Are you well, sir?"

"SILENCE, corporate slave!" But his face fell, and he hiccuped out a moan, lifting his hands as if he didn't know what to do with them. His foot twisted back, before he lifted a leg and wheezed, groaning as he fought not to double over. Idly turning the remote, in the audience, fidgeting with it back and forth, was the controller, who was awkwardly none the wiser.

The presentation went on, as best as Zim could propel it forward, with whatever he was dealing with. Several of them theorized, and even whispered to each other, that he probably just had to piss and was too proud to admit it, but the truth was that very bored associate, who kept fidgeting and running his thumbs over the dial, oscillating the little interruptions Zim made, where he would lift his fingers to his lips and let out a shuddering sigh, or his plastic-y gloves would squeak behind him as he clenched his fists. He was flushed, twitching, and very clearly bothered, as a random lock from his wig perked up like a little horn, and sweat beaded at his temples.

The associate nearest to him heard the buzzing. Close to his shiny little boots, she strained to listen, and looked down at her lap in abject horror. Around the room, she looked, and found the clueless man with his hands on the remote, and put two and two together quite seamlessly.

"So a-as you can see- AH!"

Zim's knees buckled, and his hands flew over his mouth. Under him, his folded legs trembled, and were just parted enough for the more astute one among them to see the fabric dark with wetness. "Sir- we can postpone this!" "Are you alright? Do you need to sit down?" "Someone get him a drink of- oh, no, wait, he doesn't drink water. Pepsi?"

Just under all the commotion Zim groaned, his eyes rolling back, and his folded legs shuddered, as his orgasm twitched and snapped through his narrow waist and shoulders. Also under the commotion, the man holding the remote dropped it where he'd found it to come to his boss's aid. The dial was still set to max.


	9. It Was Never There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Serafina, the horned lady (not a demon, thank you very much) discovers something about Zim that is very disturbing to her. Fortunately, she knows just how to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Long time no write! A while back I received a request for Zim and another character to have some differing genitalia. I discussed this with some friends, and finally came to the conclusion I wanted. This is dedicated to my friend who knew the answer- you know who you are!!  
Enjoy!

Serafina was not a demon. It was refreshing for her current lover, who was an alien, to not mistake her for one when she finally revealed herself. It wasn’t as if he’d done enough research into Earth culture to know what that was, anyway. 

Instead, he was fascinated with her horns, black and shiny, rising in gradual spirals from her curls. 

“What is the purpose of these?” He would ask, as if interrogating her, though she knew that was his way of showing his fascination. 

When it came time to accept touches that were closer, more intimate, she let him walk around to the back of her one night and unhook her bra. 

“That was the quickest any man has undone that,” she remarked with a small laugh. Zim crossed to the other side of her, his eyes darkened with interest. 

“I am not a man,” he said lowly, “and it was simple.”

When he pulled of the soft padded cream-colored bra, her breasts relaxed, coffee-colored nipples already hardening with the anticipation of his petite but dexterous claws feeling them. Exploring their weight, the latex-like material sliding over the balmy texture of her skin. As far as being groped went, this was the most careful anyone had gone about it. Surprisingly enough.

Zim, beside himself with an odd feeling he could not place, weighed them in his palms, lifting one up, then letting the heft of it rest, spilling far over the edges of his claws, which his gloves saved her from getting pricked too hard. 

“I like these,” he said in a low, possessive voice, and rubbed the pad of his thumbs just under a nipple, roving his hands upward to tease the stiffened, velvety areola with the needle edge of his index finger. 

He was compelled by an instinct that was almost not his at all to bend forward, letting his prehensile tongue dart out and curl over the tip of one nipple, and lifting the breast indulgently towards his face as if to take a drink.

Serafina sighed, a full sigh that was tipping into anticipation, though it was over sooner than she’d hoped. Zim had withdrawn his tongue too soon, leaving the nipple cold with the moisture touching the filtered air of his base.

“Put this back on,” he demanded abruptly, shoving the bra into her chest, letting her catch and hold it there across her bare breasts, startled and left wanting. He then marched across the mattress, the heels of his boots sinking into the plush, and plopped down at the edge to sulk. 

She kneeled there for a moment, the wetness going still as the heat dropped out of her body and stared at the suffused pink glow of the windows on the device in his back. 

“What’s the matter?”

“Do not ask me silly questions, Serafina.”

“It’s not a silly question,” she argued admonishingly. The empath crossed the garment across her chest, speaking again as she hooked it. “You were enjoying yourself. What changed?”

He turned to look at her, and there was an almost desperate confusion in the endless color of his eyes, the small creases underneath showing as his lower lids lifted, baring his teeth a little.

“How best to… explain it?” Zim touched the tips of his claws together in his lap, frowning deeply. He looked away from her, and Serafina almost immediately pitied him. She crawled across the bed, landing there beside him, and she didn’t miss when he looked up to admire the new view of her breasts before she settled. 

“Take your time,” she encouraged, and touched his shoulder pad, which was softer than it looked. When he said nothing, she kept it there. 

“I have always felt… these disgusting feelings. But I’m not sure how to… ugh. How can I describe something that has no words?”

“’Has no words’?”

“My people have no words for things of this kind,” he said distastefully. There was an underlying hopelessness to it, underneath the criminal glower. He clenched his hands in his lap. “It feels… perfect. Warm. When I touch you. You belong to Zim. But then it… stops? In a way.”

She waited for him to continue, rubbing his lower back in support.

“Do you know the feeling of… wanting something. Then you get there, and it’s gone. It was never there.”

Serafina, troubled and perplexed, brought both her hands around his shoulders, rubbing his upper arms and squeezing gently.

“It is not something I would expect someone who isn’t as brilliant as I to understand,” he coughed, trying his best to make it seem as if this wasn’t really affecting him. Though she, of course, knew better. 

“Why don’t I touch you?” She asked, keeping her voice low, trying her best not to pressure him. Here she was on his inexplicably large bed, stripped down to her underwear, and Zim had not removed even one boot. Of course she knew he probably needed the feeling of control; with how often he shouted, and his size considered, it was not hard to see why. 

“Could you?” He asked, suddenly quiet, then twisted his face into one of pride. His tone shifted immediately, with a snap of sudden certainty. “I suppose I could honor you by letting you see my body.”

She smiled. “Okay.” Then, pulled her hand down across the back of his arm, giving his waist a tender stroke, pinching the fabric. “Why don’t you lie down? I’ll do all the work.”

Zim hesitated, looking straight ahead, away from her. After a moment he cast his gaze over his shoulder, looking a little perplexed. 

“What will you do?”

Knowing he desired an exact explanation, she moved his hand further down, letting the tips of her fingers dip around the curve of his inner thigh. “I’m going to undress you. Touch you. Find out just what’s going on down there.”

Zim looked ahead again, then audibly swallowed. “Very well.”

When he was at last beneath her, a pillow beneath his upper body to support the PAK, he looked up at her, eyes fully open and glimmering with the dimmed lights above reflected in them, while she held herself up with her arms, letting her breasts hang where she knew he would appreciate the view.

“Let me know if you want me to stop,” Serafina warned with care, then sat on her knees, bending forward, pushing her fingers past the hem of his dress. She began to caress his warm belly with her thumb, and he blinked slowly, swallowing, arms up on either side of his head. 

A translucent blush had settled under his eyes, which slowly went half-lidded as he relaxed, turning his head and parting his lips to let out a silent breath, restrained with that lingering bit of nervousness. Serfina leaned down and kissed him, then pushed up the fabric past his chest, making his eyes open, and made the same motion once more, kissing him again slowly in the center of his sternum. She moved her free hand downward again, sliding down his side and his hip, and teased him by peeling back a little of his leggings with her thumb and forefinger. 

Serafina cast her eyes downward and noticed the lack of a bulge beneath the flexible fabric. A little nonplussed at first, she resigned herself quickly. It wasn’t the first pussy she’d played with. She would have fun, and would make sure he did too, no matter what he was packing. 

Prepared to face something like her own center, something she would be an expert in pleasing, Serafina got back to sit on her knees again, and pulled the fabric down to his knees without any finality at all, to find-

Nothing. 

She had to blink several times in quick succession to clear her eyes. She had to be seeing things. No one just had… nothing. 

But her eyes weren’t tricking her. Serafina reached forward, stroking his bare pubic mound with her hand, and caressed the doll-smooth skin, silky and barren of anything she could play with, between his skinny legs. 

“What- what is this?” She pushed harder with her fingers, but not hard enough to hurt him. “Tell me- tell me there’s something that comes out of here. You can’t tell me you- there’s anything?”

Zim blinked slowly at her, not seeming to understand what she meant. “Do you mean-“

Frustrated and shocked, Serafina roughly stood on her knees to shimmy her own panties down, lifting one leg after the other and shaking the bed to pull them off, then parting her legs to angrily show him her pussy. It was nectarine-colored, the folds an already wet pattern, warm and colorful and tempting as any center could be. 

“I thought you had one of these,” she said desperately. “You can’t tell me, all that teasing, all of that anticipation- just to find out that you don’t even have one slit? One fold? Something?”

Zim narrowed his eyes, baring his teeth to show her she had betrayed his thin and brittle trust. “Not sure what exactly you expected, Serafina.”

“I expected to have sex!” She cried, throwing up her hands, then reached back and shifted the curls around her horns. “I just- I-“ she pinched her nose. “How do you pee?”

“Again, not sure what you mean.”

“How did you expect to have any sex?”

Zim closed his mouth so that it almost disappeared. There was a long pause, and his expression shifted to disappointment and sadness. The atmosphere had very quickly gone cold. 

“I was hoping you would show me,” he said, completely deadpan, with all the emotion gone from his voice. 

In a terrible flash, it all began to make sense. The ridiculously regimented and repressed nature of his people. The drastic evolutionary changes they’d gone through only in the past few hundred years. The artificial birthing process of Irken smeets. 

“Oh no…” she said quietly, all at once feeling terrible for shouting. “You really didn’t know.”

He said nothing, for once, looking uncomfortable now that he was exposed, and shyly tugged down his dress over the top of his legs. 

“How come you got so turned on, then? I could tell you were. When you touched my breasts. When I was touching you, just now?”

Zim made a casual ‘I-don’t-know’ kind of noise and shrugged. But she could tell he was bothered. “Is that what I’m supposed to have?” He pointed, earnestly, at her vulva.

“I don’t know, I really don’t.” Overcome with sympathy, she leaned forward and took him into her arms. 

The embrace engulfed him. She was disappointed too. A silly diminutive Irken that had reeked of sex the moment they’d begun flirting… how could someone be so impossibly horny and yet have no genitalia to speak of? There were many things perplexing about Zim. It was almost pointless to ask questions. 

Pleased to be close to her breasts, he sank into her warmth. Muffled a little by being settled there, he spoke honestly, in a way that she still wasn’t used to hearing him. 

“Guess we’re not having sex, huh?” He sighed. “Don’t know what to tell you, Serafina. I’ve always felt this way. I was hoping I could expect you to explain the way I felt.”

What he’d said minutes earlier, about the feeling ‘never being there’, was understood now, and it made her want to cry. 

They spent a few moments longer, holding each other in silence, with Zim still awkwardly half-clothed, the leggings bunched up at his knees. 

“Wait!” she cried, gasping. “I’m an idiot!” She took his shoulders, pushing him at arm’s length, shaking him.

“You are?” he asked, rattled, antennae standing at attention. 

“Yes! I’m an empath, Zim! I can help you feel what it’s like to have sex!”

He backed up, standing on his own, and pulled up his leggings. Shifting his pose, he touched his claw tips together and looked at her inquisitively. 

“Explain yourself.”

“I can make you feel what I’m feeling,” she said, proudly. To demonstrate, she leaned her head down, making him flinch backward to avoid the sharp tip of her horns. “Touch one,” she commanded. 

“Eh… okay,” he said, perplexed, and wrapped his gloved fingers close to the tapered edge. 

When she lifted her head, he nearly went up with her. “No no no wait, take your glove off first.”

“Heh?” His antennae flew back. 

“It needs to be off for this to work,” she explained. 

The blush had come back. If possible, it was twice as dark as it had been when she’d been over Zim, caressing him. There was a clear heat to his face, draped over his cheeks, that was impossibly endearing. 

Pulling the end of one finger at a time, he tugged off the glove in a shy, sensual way, dropping it onto the bed and flexing his fingers. He looked down at his bare hand as if he had never seen it before, and the folds of his petite clawed fingers and palm were reflected in his sparkling eyes. 

Serafina, daunted by admiration, reached out to grasp his little wrist and pressed his palm to her lips, kissing it. Zim bit his lip and closed his eyes, shivering. 

“Are they sensitive?”

“Very,” he said quietly. 

She pulled his hand up, encouraging his fingers to grasp around her horn, and left them there. 

“Kiss me,” she said quietly, and he came forward to press his invisible lips against hers, entranced by her beauty and the feeling of his bare hand around the subtle ridges of her horn.

“How do you feel now?” She asked, as they parted. “Any different?”

For several moments, Zim was too starstruck to reply. In response, she curled her hand around she small of his back and guided him to straddle her thigh. His doll-smooth crotch settled on her leg, making her want to hold him close at the reminder. At once as he was faced with her chest again he reached his delicate fingers beneath the underwire of her bra and lifted the cup. Then that hand drifted to his own chest, touching his sternum, eyes still closed. 

To make sure he wasn’t distracted, though, Serarina took his ungloved hand in hers. His face pressed against her breast- cheeks hot and his short, dark lashes brushing against the soft skin as he sighed from that action alone. She took her hand down, with his tucked inside it, and made his fingers touch her folds. 

At once Zim turned his head and his eyes flew open. Immediately Serafina noticed the conflict in his expression, looking from his own crotch to hers, and where his fingers connected to her, and back again. Serafina had never heard him this quiet, and assumed from his reaction that it had worked. So she began to move his fingers around her clitoris, down to her labia, carrying the wetness there up to the rest of her center, applying pressure while minding the pricks of his claws. The movement heated her up in no time at all, and there was enough that Zim’s fingers could glide over her wetness as more began to pool out of her against his touch.

“What’s- eh- I’m- Zim is-“ He couldn’t stop stuttering. Zim fidgeted and rolled his hips where he sat, gently repositioning himself a few times as she found her rhythm, and Serafina could feel the skin against her leg heating up, blushing like his cheeks and chest, and she kissed the top of his head lovingly.

“Doesn’t that feel good?”

He couldn’t enunciate a thing. It was all so new. Overcome, he pressed his face against her again, sighing softly (a sound which he rarely if ever made) and didn’t even notice she had lifted her hand, and that he had continued the rhythm on his own. 

“You know what would feel even better?”

…and Zim found himself laying on his belly, faced very closely with the soft fuzzy wetness, inebriated by her alluring scent. His antennae rhythmically tapped against her inner thighs, and he braced himself against her leg, trying not to squeeze. 

“Just pretend you’re sucking on something really good,” advised Serafina from above. “Use that tongue. Don’t be afraid to go deeper,” she gestured, poking the tip of her index finger into her entrance, “in here.”

Zim swallowed, blinking slowly. “I doubt I will have to pretend,” he said hoarsely, and shimmied forward on his front so that his mouth was close enough for his tongue to dart out and hit her honeyed entrance. He flinched, foot giving a hard twitch. His belly felt so warm… moving down between his legs. He wanted to reach there and touch himself, several times forgetting there was nothing there. He could feel his own tongue lapping against her, how wet it felt, the hot static rising up and down and through. Again he found that trance, licking and sucking at the wettest spots, sucking against her sweetness and moaning hopelessly into her as he felt it all. Zim cupped his fingers between his legs, then released them, then rubbed again, massaging the silky skin. 

He had to take a breath when he swirled the tip of his tongue around her clit, nearly wrapping all the way around, but closed his mouth around her again when he stopped feeling anything. Zim had pulled himself close, arms wrapped around her legs, completely lost in exploring her, and lost in the feeling welling up in that space that had been evolved and healed over by time. 

It was all so much! He kept tasting her and sighing into her, moaning, and feeling the vibrations of his own voice inside himself. Along with the length of his tongue reaching deep, drinking, swirling around and pressing against the very top of the both of them-

They came together, hitting a wall, and then shuddering down it. Serafina’s legs quivered on either side of Zim and he cried out into her, opening his mouth with his tongue still inside, feeling her pulse around it and feeling himself pulse around his own tongue.

Of course, when he reached down, nothing was there but the soft balmy skin blushing with relief. Panting open-mouthed, he gasped a few times, and pulled his tongue back into his mouth. Looking up, the horned lady was sweating, lips parted gently, eyes closed in bliss. 

He wanted to make a remark, comment on the situation, insist his superiority in some way by having done such a good job pleasuring them both, but he could only form a few words at a time in his head, and none of them matched up. 

When he did think of something, he was pulled up into her lap, her soft hands brushing over his head and antennae. He curled his arms around her hips, riding out the afterglow with her. 

“That felt good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is! It took me a while to finish this one because there were a lot of times I didn't know how to continue. I'm glad it's out there and I hope everybody is safe and healthy! Thanks for reading!!


	10. On The Double (zim x reader)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zim finds it difficult to restrain himself when he's thinking of you. For your sake, he'll wait until you're ready. But it's so hard... when you've become so close. Alone in his lab, he refuses to touch himself. Well, there is another way...  
(features hands-free masturbation, double cock action, and oviposition/egg laying discussion.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UHHHH hi! How is everyone? Thank you for staying with me to chapter 10!! I really appreciate it!! I hope you guys are doing well!! I stopped posting for a little while for a number of reasons. I'll leave a little note about it at the end.   
ANYWAY! Not to ruin the mood! I wanted to write something new for me, for some friends of mine, and for everyone who is sticking with me!! Get cozy, and enjoy!  
Comments and kudos make me so happy!! Please leave them if you're able, and if not then that's okay too, and I hope you love this next installment!!

Being completely, utterly, awash with lust was not something Zim’s elite training had prepared him for. He suspected what may have triggered it this time was being so close to you, a distance he was also not very used to. Or prepared to be so in love with. 

Having to sit still, watching that film with you… he’d cleaned the couch, made the upper level of the base completely spotless (he’d never admit it was just to impress you.) Laying against your soft belly in the dark, resting his claw across your warm, plush stomach. What restraint he’d had to exercise, while struggling not to turn his face into the fold across your waist, to grip a handful of you, fight the odd urge to scent and bite and- 

Well.

That’s what has his insides so tightened up now. So much of you to love. 

And fuck.

He’d been quite patient. Not one of his strong suits. But for you, his love, something precious and rare enough to fight every primal urge within, he could wait. But only just barely.

Sitting at his computer console, he sneered in disgust at himself, feeling the hot in his lower half unsheathe, the force inside pulsing hard and deep from between his legs and through his strong little body at the thought of having you beneath him. Just a place to shove his cocks and fill with his eggs. He wants that belly even bigger with his brood. 

Perhaps until you can no longer walk.

All he can do is wriggle his hips in his chair and pull his leggings down to prevent them from getting sticky. His cocks have slid out, heavy and thick, their spaded ends gingerly touching, sending sparks of electricity through him. He leaves the leggings around his ankles, almost having the shy urge to close his knees and hide the insistent members from sight. Even if there’s no one around. 

Touching himself, however, gloves or not, sounds completely unappealing. How undignified, and unprofessional that would be. Especially at one’s own workstation. Unbefitting of an elite. 

But your image is there. His antennae twitch at the memory of your scent, and his two spikes swell just that much larger in response. Zim can’t take it anymore. How is he supposed to work like this?!

Leaning back, gripping both arm rests of his seat hard enough to prick the vinyl, Zim crosses his ankles for a moment while his muscles painfully flex with the urge to touch himself. To have you there, taking all of him to the hilt. What sounds he imagines you making. He knows he can make you come many times over. All the right things to do- he’s memorized in his research. What’s supposed to happen in mating rituals. How your body with his could fit so perfectly. How perfectly you’d carry his brood in your pretty belly. So much bigger. You would look even better than you already do to him…

In the desperation for some kind of contact, his tentacles have begun twirling their way sluggishly around each other. Their prehensile muscles twisting and gripping and longing for your touch. 

Zim looks down at them, raising his hips subconsciously, starting to ride on the rhythm of one cock stroking the other, and biting his lip carefully.

“C-hhh! Com… puter. Lock down the lab.” No one must see him.

‘Ughhh… whatever.’ But he does hear the whir of the barrier pistons interlocking. Good. 

He relaxes more into his seat, almost helpless as he rubs the sides of his boots together, his cocks a mess of hot, dewy slick and released pheromones. Zim can smell himself, his disgusting smelly lust for you, and it only gets heavier as his mating channel releases more wetness, slipping out of him and onto his chair. He’s positively throbbing. 

Zim wants you to smell him. There are chemicals he knows will make you ravenous with lust if he plays his cards right. 

In his lower belly, he can feel the beginnings of eggs in his brood chamber. Behind all the heat and friction and twitching and wanting. Great. He’ll have to release those later, too, before they get too big. He has enough already in cold storage. Relocating them before had been a clinical affair. Now he almost knows a more appealing way to get them out. 

Thinking of you. A mate more than suitable enough to bury himself into. For you to feel so good with him as close as he can get. As deep as he can get. 

And Zim can’t stop. He wonders how tight you’ll be. If you’ll be able to take him both at once. Oh, he could work up to that, however difficult it might be. You are so worth it to him. Nothing else makes him feel this way. Nothing that isn’t his mission.

The weight of his two members squeezing each other has him breathless. His PAK is hot pressed against his back, and pleasant jolts are going up the cords in his spine. Something whirs inside his biomechanical innards, fanning the flame. 

Zim has never tried it this way. His eyes tilt and mist, knowing how often he might come back to this vice. When he needs you. When he needs you badly. After you’ve been close to him. Warm and soft, perfect to dig his claws and teeth and lengths deep. 

The eggs he’s begun to form inside almost strain out of him. They must go somewhere soon. All he wants to picture is reaching deep, deep inside you. Your belly swelling, heavy and heavier with each egg he deposits nice and far inside. Under your softness, a layer of his love. That is, until you lay them. He wants to see you push each egg out one by one, each one wider than the width of his cocks once they’ve grown inside you. You'd look so good, full of his eggs. How much can you stretch, he wonders. How many can you fit-

It’s those indulgent thoughts that makes him come. His taut, muscly body seizes up, his dicks twirl closer in a twitch, and he bites down a bruise with his gummy teeth into his thin lip. It is just enough, though you’re not there to satisfy him. The searing pangs of pleasure beat into his belly so hard, making it flutter. The tips of him fly up a little, so that he comes a hot stream onto his bare belly where his tunic is pulled up, then onto his thighs and hips, on the chair and floor, and then, disgustingly, on the computer interface. 

There’s so much. He has to clasp his gloved hands over his mouth to keep from making any noise. But there is a little, strained squeal that escapes from inside his shut tight mouth, anyway. 

It’s over. He finishes, and his muscles go limp from exhaustion, unlocking. Tongue lolling out as his arms fall away from his face. Zim pants, closing his mouth and gulping, before he gets his breath again. 

Then he looks down with a sneer of dismay at the mess he’s made. 

(Hours later.)

Finally, clean, after a good hour of scrubbing. Wearing a fresh uniform, presentable and ready for work again. 

At last he settles into his chair, sighing.

What would you think if you saw him like this, he wonders. 

There’s that heat again. A small spark of pressure, building. He clenches his teeth. No. 

Not again. Not again. He has to get back to work.

It’s a losing battle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOW BOUT THAT. YEAH. <3 <3 <3 <3 <3
> 
> Rant incoming. 
> 
> OKay, so the reason I left is mostly because zadrs make mE INCREDIBLY UNCOMFORTABLE and I was discouraged after I edited the description of this fic to exclude them that I was getting much less page views. That made me..... really really uncomfortable for a lot of reasons. I really don't want anyone who I find to be completely and utterly morally reprehensible to enjoy my indulgent writing.   
It made it so much worse that there were users who I did not know were zadrs commenting on my fics. I have tried my best to delete the replies I've made to zadrs and all the comments they made on my work, but I feel like I've left kudos on fics which I didn't know were written by a zadr at first, and it makes my skin crawl that I can't take those back.   
I don't really care if I get hate for being an "anti". I just don't like that nonsense. If you ship adults with child characters then I can't stand you and if you're reading this I hope you change your ways. Don't you ever manipulate others to believe for one second that it's okay to draw/write that stuff, aged up or not. By all means, feel uncomfortable. If you think I'm bullying you then honey, you got a big storm coming. 
> 
> Uhhhh not sure what else to say other than thanks again!! Stay safe!! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Yep! Yep! Alright!  
My headcanon here is that since Zim has a defective PAK, and he's been the only one of his kind for months (maybe years) on earth, he starts to feel longing that he can't understand, and his PAK isn't (brainwashing) blocking it out for him. It's not a heat scenario, but Zim's really horny and is too ashamed to touch himself.  
Oh poor Zim, he's never even really thought about sex before, so he's not sure what he wants. And Irken society bans it altogether. He just needs to be touched and can't figure things out. Zim isn't really very well versed on the concept of affection, so of course his thoughts are a little submissive. But! lonely characters masturbating is my jam.  
Reviews are my fave!! Please let me know if you liked this and you want more. I absolutely love reading and replying to your comments!  
Have a great day! Thanks for reading!


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